Athrun's Fall
by Reegan10
Summary: She's never had a tougher patient than Athrun – but Cagalli is determined to recover the life he's lost.
1. Chapter Prolouge

Disclaimer: GS or GSD never belongs to me

Athrun's Fall

Prologue

It made the evening news.

The accident occurred on a mountain in northern Italy. As mountains went, it wasn't that majestic. But it was sufficient. Sufficiently high and rugged to win the respect of even expert climbers. A fall into a chasm of rock thirty feet deep was sufficient to seriously damage Athrun Zala's spine, warrant headlines, and pitch hundreds of his employees around the globe into a panic.

Kira Yamato could not believe what he's hearing as he looks at their plasma T.V.

"… the only survivor. He has just been flown here to Rome, where the extent of his injuries will hopefully become known later this evening. Other member of the mountain climbing who were reported dead was Nicol Amalfi, one of the greatest musician and composer and some tourist from Brazil who were also reported dead at the scene. Mr. Zala, an internationally renowned tycoon, is owner of the Zala Hotel chain. He is-"

Kira did not wait for the anchorman to finish his sentence as he call for his wife from outside playing with their other children.

"Lacus! Come over here right away! You have to see this!" he called for her. Lacus told their children to run along as she went gracefully to her husband.

"What is it?" she ask as she reach his side.

"Listen" Kira turn up the volume. By that time the anchorman asked the field reporter, "Are doctors speculating on Mr. Zala's condition at all?"

"No, they're not. Hospital officials refuse to release any information until Mr. Zala has undergone a through examination and his condition is fully ascertained. All we are being told at present is that his injury, or injuries, involve the spinal column and appear to be serious."

"Was he conscious when he arrived?"

"We've had no official confirmation of that, although he appeared not to be. As soon as the helicopter arrived, he was rushed inside. We'll have more information-"

Abruptly Kira turn the volume all the way down and slowly turn to look at his pale wife.

"Oh," she groaned, "how awful for Athrun."

"According to the report, one of them slipped into an icy chasm and dragged the others down with him."

"Knowing Athrun, whether it was his fault or not, he'll take full responsibility." After a moment she pushed herself away and looked up at Kira. "What should we do?"

"There's nothing we can do at this point."

"I've got to do something, Kira."

"You've got to think about yourself. And the baby."

He laid his open hand against her lower abdomen, which was firmly rounded with pregnancy. She was in her last trimester. "Athrun wouldn't want you to endanger his godchild."

"I could ask Miri or Shiho to come stay with the children. We could get a flight out of Chicago to Rome tonight."

"Uh-uh," he said, sternly shaking his head. "You're not flying to Rome."

"I can't just sit here and do nothing," she cried in frustration.

"You'll have plenty to do in next few days. There'll be a million and one detail to be taken care of. Everything will be in a state of chaos until Athrun's prognosis is officially handed down. He would rely on your level headedness in such a crisis. You're far more valuable to him here, taking care of his business, than you would be pacing the corridors of a Roman hospital, worrying about something you have no control over and wearing yourself out in the process."

She slumped dejectedly. "I guess you're right. I _know_ you're right. It's just that I feel so useless."

Kira didn't say so, but he was thinking how much more useless Athrun Zala was going to feel when he regained consciousness-God forbid that he wouldn't-and learned that he had suffered a deliberating spinal injury.

"Poor Athrun," he muttered where Lacus couldn't hear, as he pulled her back into his reassuring embrace.

OOo

How was it? Was it ok? Good? Just right? Not bad? Please read and review…. ^-^


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: GS or GSD never belong to me… I promise.

Athrun's Fall

Chapter One

"Bad idea. Of all ideas ever conceived by man, this is the baddest."

Cagalli Yula Attha Yamato, standing in bare feet, skintight jeans, and a faded red T-shirt, looked like a commune mama straight out of the sixties. She'd been a mere child during that decade, but her expression personified the rebellious spirit of the bygone era. Vexed, she tossed her thick, short hair over her shoulder. Wisps of blond bangs wered held off her face by a bandanna sweatband tied around her forehead, but she made a reflexive swipe at them too.

"You haven't even heard us out yet," Kira chided his younger twin sister.

"I heard enough. Athrun Zala. That name is all I needed to hear to turn me against any plan you two have hatched." She eyes her brother and sister-in-law with open hostility. "Let's forget you even mentioned it and go out for ice cream, okay? No hard feeling."

Kira and Lacus stared at her with unspoken reproach. Seeing that they weren't yet willing to throw in the towel, Cagalli flopped down on the sofa in the living room of her small apartment and drew one threadbare knee up in front of her like a shield. "Well, let's hear it. Give me the sermon quick so we can get it over with."

"He's not doing well, Cagalli."

"Most patients with spinal injuries don't," she replied sarcastically. "Especially not at first. And most don't have the financial means to help themselves the way your Mr. Zala does. Thanks to his checkbook, he's got more doctors and nurses and physical therapist at his disposal than most patients in his condition could count. He doesn't need me."

"The reverse snobbery, isn't it?" Kira asked her reasonably.

"How much money Zala does or does not have is irrelevant."

"Then why don't you agree to be his therapist?" Lacus demanded.

"Because I don't like him," Cagalli shot back. She held up both hands to ward off the objections she saw rising from them. "No, let me rephrase that, I loathe and detest and despise him. And vice versa."

"That shouldn't have anything to do with it."

"Oh-ho, but it does!" Cagalli bolted off the sofa and bgan pacing. "Guys like him who need physical therapy are the _worst_. I mean the absolute worst of patients. Children love and adore you for your attention. Elderly people are tearfully grateful to you for your kindness. Even young women are pathetically thankful. But men in Zala's age group," she said, shaking her head adamantly, "uh-uh. No way. We at the hospital draw straws to see who gets stuck with them."

"But Cagalli-"

"Why is that?" Kira's voice overrode that of his wife. Lacus had a tendency to become emotiona; in situations such as this. His approach was more pragmatic, especially with his volatile sister, whose mood swings were drastic and unpredictable.

"Because for the most part they had been in great physical condition prior to the cause of their spinal trauma, most are injured when participating in a dangerous sport. They're thrill – seekers. Active and adventurous. Motorcyclists, surfers, skiers, divers, that sort. They're athletically inclined. More so than the majority of the population. When one gets hurt and suffers paralysis even temporarily, he goes a little wacko. He can't deal with going from superjock – superstud to helpless invalid. His psyche goes off the deep end. No matter how congenial he was before his accident, he becomes embittered by it and wants to punish everybody in the world for his misfortune. In short, he becomes a pain in the… neck."

"Athrun won't be like that."

"Right," Cagalli agreed drolly. "He'll be much worse. He had more to lose."

"He'll know you're there to help him."

"He'll resent everything I do."

"He'll thank you."

"He'll fight me."

"You'll be his last ray of hope."

"I'll be his scapegoat." Cagalli drew a long breath. "I would bear the brunt of his foul temper and his recalcitrance. _If _I subjected myself to that kind of abuse, which I won't. So, end of discussion. Thank you"

Lacus turned to Kira and looked at him in appeal. "Do something."

He laughed shortly and shrugged. "What do you want me to do? She's a grown woman. She makes up her own mind."

"Thank you, Kira, for once I'm so glad I have you for a brother," Cagalli said righteously.

"But you saw Athrun. I didn't." Kira stood firm in his decision not to let Lacus fly abroad, but at her insistence and because of his worry for his best friend he had gone to see Athrun and had returned with a firsthand report on his condition. "Tell Cagalli what the doctors said."

Sighing heavily, Cagalli returned to her seat on the sofa. When she was settled, Kira told her, "I went to Hawaii to see him."

"I thought he was in Rome."

"He was. At his request he was transferred to a hospital in Honalyly after the surgery."

"He had a surgery?" Kira nodded. "From what I understood, the spinal cord wasn't severed in the fall." Cagalli's professional interest was piqued in spite of her personal aversion to the entrepreneur.

"Thank God it wasn't. but several bones in his back were broken or cracked. The surgeons repaired them. I don't know the medical jargon, but he suffered a spinal contusion. He had sustained a real blow to the spine that caused a lot of swelling."

"A contusion is a bruise. The tissue swells and puts pressure on the nerves. Until the swelling goes down, the doctors won't know for sure the extent of his paralysis of whether or not it's permanent."

"Exactly,"Kira said, nodding at her knowledgeable summary, which agreed with what the experts had told him.

"And the surgery prolonged the time there would be swelling around the vertebrae," Cagalli added.

"Yes, but that was two weeks ago. He should be showing improvement and he's not."

"He's still in a state of diaschisis?" at Kira's puzzled look she clarified, "Spinal shock. Paralysis."

"Yes."

"He doesn't feel any sensation below his waist?"

"None."

"He should have started therapy already." Kira looked away guiltily. "He has," Cagalli said perceptively. "Hasn't he?"

"Yes," Kira mumbled grudgingly, "but he hasn't responded well."

"He's resisted it," Cagalli stated flatly. "Which brings us full circle. You just made my point. Men like Athrun always resent a therapist's interference. Mostly out of fear that they'll never be the same, they either want to do anything at all. Which is it with Zala?"

"He doesn't want to do anything at all."

She gave a professional harrumph.

"Do you blame him?" Kira asked with a trace of exasperation.

Cagalli snapped right back, "It's not my job to place blame, Kira. It's my job to make the best of what these patients have left. Not to baby them while they cry over what they've lost."

He ran a hand through his hair. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just, hell, if you could have seen him lying there I that damn bed, unable to move, loking so…pitiful."

Cagalli's expression softened. "I see patients like that every day. Some much more painful than Athrun Zala."

"I'm sure you do." Kira expelled a deep breath. "I didn't mean to suggest that Athrun should take precedence over any other patient or that you aren't compassionate."

"It's just that Athrun is our friend," Lacus said quietly. "Our very special friend."

"And my mortal enemy," Cagalli reminded them. "From the first time we laid eyes on each other, it's been mutual detestation. You should remember, Lacus. You introduced us that day in Fantasy."

"I remember."

"Remember your wedding? Athrun and I could barely get through one obligatory waltz without coming to fisticuffs."

"He accused you of leading."

"I was! I didn't like the way he led," Lacus and Kira exchange a glande. If the situation hasn't been so grave, they could have found a humor in Cagalli's account of their wedding reception. "And last Christmas morning as soon as I arrived at your house, he invented a lame, transparent excuse and left."

"Only after you made that wisecrack about the goose he brought."

"All I said was that for what he paid for the damn bird, one would think they'd've cut it's head off."

"He took offense, Cagalli." Lacus said. "And I don't blame him. The goose was a thoughtful gesture. It had been beautifully prepared by one of the hotel chefs and-"

"Ladies," Kira interrupted with a long-suffering sigh. When they fell silent, he addressed Cagalli. "We're well aware of the ongoing antagonism between you and Athrun. But we also think that, under the circumstances, personal considerations should be set aside."

"_My _personal considerations. As the therapist I have to be cajoling and nice to him. He can be a bastard to me and get away with it."

"Maybe so, Cagalli, but we're talking about the man's life."

"He's still alive."

"Not to his way of thinking he isn't. We're talking quality life here. You know what an ambitious, driven man Athrun was. He was like an avalanche about to happen. He moved with the impetus of a steamroller."

"He could again," she argued. "The doctors have all but come right out and guaranteed that there's no permanent damage and that his paralysis is temporary."

"But Athrun's not convinced. Until he is, it doesn't matter what the doctors tell him. He needs to be persuaded that his condition isn't permanent. And soon. One doctor told me that the longer he remains paralyzed, the less hope for a full recovery."

"That's right."

Lacus stood up and went to her sister-in-law. Sandwiching Cagalli's hand's between hers, she said, "Please, Cagalli. I know it's asking a lot. But how bad can working in Hawaii be?"

"Unfair, Lacus. Who can resist a job in Hawaii, much less a begging Prego?"

Lacus smiled, but her eyes remained earnest. "Please."

"I'd have to take an indefinite leave of absence from my regular job." She was grasping at straws now, and all three knew it. Still, Cagalli felt compelled to put up token resistance. "I'd be deserting my other patients in the middle of their therapy programs."

"There's an entire staff of capable therapists to take over for you."

"So hire one of them to work with this glorified bellhop."

"None are as good as you."

"Flattery."

"You'd be getting paid triple what you're making now."

"Bribary."

"You'd come back with a fabulous tan."

"Coercion." After shooting them dirty looks, she thoughtfully gnawed on the inside of her cheeks. "Be honest with me. How many therapist have tried with Zala and failed."

"I'm not sure-"

"Three." Lacus, whose white lie had been shot down before it could take flught, turned to her husband with exasperation. "No sense in lying," he said with a shrug. "She would find out when she got there."

"But we'd have the Pacific Ocean between her and us when she founf out."

Cagalli laughed. "Three, huh? Good lord, he's even worse than I thought. What were his objections to the therapists?"

"The first was a man," Kira told her. "Athrun said his hands felt like hams with sledgehammers packed inside. Said he must have come straight from Rocky Balboa's training camp."

"Such a nice guy," Cagalli said, exaggeratedly batting her eyelashes. "Go on."

"The second ran out of his room in tears. We're not sure what he said to her."

"_Her?_ Young?" Kira nodded at Cagalli's guess. "I can imagine. You'd be amazed at the lewd and imaginative propositions that are spouted from the mouths of parapegics," she remarked. "What about the third one?"

Kira winced. "They tried another male. Athrun claimed he was a, uh…"

"Homosexual," Cagalli supplied.

"That kinda captures the gist of it, yeah."

Shaking her head, Cagalli said, "The man is a classic case, I tell you, classic." She stood, slid her hands into the seat pockets of her jeans, and gave Kira and Lacus her back. She moved to the window and gazed through the open blinds. It was drizzling for the third straight day. Everything was autumnally gray. Hawaii would be a pleasant change of climate and scenery, certainly.

Was she _seriously_ considering becoming physical therapist to Athrun Zala, a man whose name evoked shudders of dislike?

But he was still a patient, an accident victim, a seriously wounded man who might or might not walk normally again. A lot would depend on the physical therapy he was given. And she was good in her field. She was exceptionally good.

She turned around to face Lacus and Kira. "Have you discussed this idea with the hospital staff to Honolulu?"

"Yes. They gave is the go-ahead."

"I'd have complete control over his therapy? I wouldn't have anyone questioning my methods, no stars-in-her-eyes nurse with a crush on him undoing my work, no one second-guessing or berating me?"

"What do you plan to do the poor guy?"

Cagalli smiled at Kira's suspicious inquiry. "If the doctors determine that he's capable of walking again, he'll hate me before he does. He'll set up a hue and cry and go through pure hell and so will I."

Lacus nervously clasped her hands over her swollen stomach. "You wouldn't… I mean, you and Athrun don't like each other very much, but you wouldn't…"

"Deliberately hurt him?" Cagalli asked angrily. "Give me some credit, Lacus. I might not have many scruples but my professional integrity is above reproach."

"Of course it is. Forgive me," Lacus said, rubbing her temples out of fatigue and distress. "I know you'll do the very best you can for Athrun."

"I haven't said I will yet."

"Will you?"

"Who's paying me, him?"

"Actually his phalanx of subordinates is taking care of the bookkeeping, but the money comes out of Athrun's personal account and not the corporation's."

"Good. He can afford me. One thousand dollars a day." At their shocked expressions, she said defensively, "Don't think I won't earn it. I'll earn twice that much. One thousand dollars a day plus my travel and living expenses in Hawaii."

"Agreed," Lacus said, knowing that she wouldn't have any difficulty justifying the expense to Athrun's devoted staff.

"And he can't fire me. No one can fire me except you."

"All right. Are you formally accepting the position?"

Cagalli rolled her eyes heavenward, said something that made Lacus glad she had opted to leave the children at home, and on a gust of air said, "Hell, yes. How can I resist having the mighty Athrun Zala at my mercy?"

OOo

"There must be some mistake. Zala. Z-A-L-A. First name Athrun."

"I'm well aware of the name," the receptionist said condescendingly. "But as I've already told you, Mr. Zala has been released from this hospital."

Cagalli shifted her heavy flight bag form one shoulder to the other. "The man is paraplegic. Don't tell me he walked out of here."

"I can't discuss a patient's condition."

"Then get someone to down here who can. Pronto."

The receptionist did, but not pronto. It was forty-five minutes before the summoned doctor approached Cagalli where she sat in the lobby like a miniature volcano about to blow its top. "Ms. Attha?"

Cagalli tossed down the magazine she's practically memorized during her wait. "Yes. Who are you?"

"Mu La Flagga."

"You're kidding."

" 'Fraid not. I'm sorry you were kept waiting so long." Though he grinned engagingly, Cagalli didn't say anything to let him off the hook. His grin faltered. "If you'll come with me?"

He tried to take her suitcase, but she wouldn't let him. She lugged it and her shoulder bag into the elevator and remained ungraciously silent during the ride up to the sixth floor. Once seated in a chair in his office, she accepted his offer of a cold drink and nodded her thanks to the secretary who brought it to her. After one sip she demanded, "Is Athrun Zala still in the hospital?"

"No, he isn't."

She cursed beneath her breath. "Then someone got his signals crossed. I was hired to be his personal therapist. I just flew across several time zone and the whole freaking ocean for nothing."

"We couldn't reach you in time, for which I apologize. Yesterday morning Mr. Zala demanded to be released. We had no recourse." He raised his hands in a helpless motion. "He's retreated to his home on Maui."

"What was his condition when he left?"

"Very poor. He's still flaccid. I begged him to wait until we knew more. He said he knew enough, said he was resigned to being a bedridden paraplegic the rest of his life, and insisted that he be transferred home. Frankly, Ms. Attha. I'm far more concerned about his mental state than I am about the diaschisis, which I firmly believe is temporary."

"The spine wasn't severed?"

"No. Traumatized drastically, but I believe when all the swelling goes down and he begins physical therapy, he'll gradually have sensation restored."

"Having sensation restored is a long way from climbing mountains. That's probably what Zala's thinking too."

"I'm sure you're right," the doctor replied with chagrin. "He wanted absolute guarantees from us, and from the specialists he had brought over from the mainland, that he would eventually be as he was before. None of us could give him unqualified answers. Often it's anybody's guess how these spinal injuries will heal and how ambulatory the patient will eventually be."

"Well, whether he could feel it or not, I'd like to give Mr. Zala a swift kick in the butt for wasting my time."

The doctor scratched his cheek absently. "I spoke with your brother, Mr. Yamato, how come you got different family name?"

"It's a very long story."

"Anyway, he suggested, and I concur, that you should follow Mr. Zala to Maui and begin therapy at once."

"Oh, he did, did he? Well, the next time you speak to my brother, give him this message for me." The message caused the cheek Dr. La Flagga was scratching to turn beet red. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Mu La Flagga, I'm going to find the hotel with the hottest shower and the firmest bed in the islands and crawl into both. Not necessarily in that order."

"Please, Ms. Attha." He popped out of his chair and gestured imploringly for her to return to hers. More out of weariness than obedience, Cagalli sat back down. "If you live up to your credentials, this patient desperately needs you."

"And sharks need food. That doesn't mean I'm going to volunteer myself as dinner."

"It won't be that bad." She gave him a withering glace. He looked away first. "Granted," he said, squirming uncomfortably beneath her level amber gaze, "Mr. Zala is accustomed to having his own way. He can't be difficult. But I'm certain you can handle him."

As he said that, he was taking in Cagalli's white leather jacket, which was decorated with silver studs and six-inch fringe. The coat was too warm for the climate, but she hadn't had a chance to take it off and it was easier to war than to carry.

"Please, reconsider. Go to Maui."

"Are you familiar with the phrase, 'No way Jose'?"

Impatiently she listened as Dr. La Flagga earnestly recounted all the reasons Lacus and Kira had originally cited why she should agree to give Athrun Zala physical therapy.

"Okay. Okay!" she exclaimed so suddenly that the doctor jumped. "Right now I'd sell my soul for a bath. Which way's Maui and how do I get there from here?"

Sparing no expense, she itemized the equipment she wanted to take with her. While the doctor was making arrangements for it and a private plane to fly her to the other island, Cagalli hailed a cab outside the hospital and went on a whirlwind shopping spree. She used the carte blanche expense account she'd been given to buy clothing more suitable to the climate.

By the time she alighted from the private plane on Maui, her slender figure was wrapped in a colorful sarong and she had sandals on her feet instead of boots. Using a wide-brimmed straw hat to shade her eyes, she searched for the rental car that she had been promised would be waiting for her.

Once behind the wheel, map in hand, she set out for Athrun Zala's tropical retreat. The major highway soon narrowed to a minor one and eventually dwindled to a rutted dirt road that she cursed with each jolting lurch of the car. It wound its way up a mountainside that was so verdantly rich; she couldn't help but be impressed by the wealth of unfamiliar vegetation.

She was also stunned by the sprawling estate that she discovered at the end of the climbing, twisting road. She had expected Athrun Zala's house to _nice_, but her destination surpassed her expectations. It was opulent.

A lava rock walkway led up to the mammoth front door made of frosted beveled glass. Hauling her luggage with her, she went toward it and pressed the button. Moments later the door swung open. At first she thought no one was there. But then her eyes dropped down to the tiny Asian man, whose wizened face was on a level with her midriff. Barely.

"Who you?"

"Little Bo Peep. I've lost my sheep. Also my marbles, or I wouldn't be here."

He thought that was hilariously funny and dissolved into knee-slapping laughter. "You Cagarri?"

She laughed. "That's me. What's your name?"

"Pete."

"Pete! I was expecting something more Oriental."

"Doctor call. Say you come. Inside, inside." With amazing strength he took her suitcase from her and signaled her into a dazzling foyer floored in black and white marble squares.

She bent down and whispered to Pete, "Does the patient know I'm coming?" his wide grin collapsed. She had her answer. "I didn't think so. Where is he?" Pete's black eyes swung up to the gallery above them. "Up there?" he nodded solemnly. "Well, here goes nothing." She muttered.

Mentally hiking her belt, she mounted the sweeping cantilevered staircase. Reaching the first door at the top, she paused and looked down questioningly at Pete. He shook his head and with a quick jabbing thrusts of his index finger, pointed out another door. She went to it, silently inquired if she had the right one, and got an affirmative bob of his head before turned and scampered off towards another part of the house.

"Chicken," she said beneath her breath.

Cagalli firm knock on the door was met with a bellow. "Go away." She knocked again. "Go away, dammit, are you deaf? I don't want any juice. I don't want a Popsicle. I don't want a damn thing but to be left alone."

Cagalli swung the door wide. "Tough tittie."

Athrun's mouth dropped open in astonishment. Once he's convinced himself that she wasn't a nightmare, his head hit the pillow behind it with a defeated plop. He laughed mirthlessly. "God, I must have done some serious sinning to find myself in this hell."

"Hello to you too."

The soled of her new sandals slapped against the glazed tile floor as she made her way towards the rented hospital bed. She didn't stop until she was standing at the foot of it, where she allowed the belligerent patient to give her a once-over.

Sneering with derision, he said, "Most women would have a better taste than to dangle a salad bar from their ears."

Cagalli shook her head, jangling the plastic fruit clusters she'd bought on one of Honolulu's commercial drags that catered to tourists. "I thought these earrings were kinda cute."

"Oh, it's a great costume, but Halloween's already passed."

By an act of will Cagalli withheld a scalding comeback. Instead she closed her eyes and counted to ten, mumbling. "Just as I thought. This was a real bad idea."

OOo**O**

Ok, I know the little guy named 'Pete' is not a character or any part of the GS or GSD but I just want to add a character to that and I can't think of any character good for that kind of part also please don't take much notice about 'Pete' if he suddenly appears in the future chapters. Hope you like the first part…R&R! ^-^


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: GS and GSD never belong to me…

Athrun's Fall

Chapter Two

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I go out of my way to visit sick friends. It's one of my virtues."

"You don't have any virtues. I doubt you have any friends. And if you do, I doubt you're that conscientious about paying sick calls."

Cagalli made a tsking sound. "My, my, aren't we in a nasty mood today."

Athrun drew his sleek dark brows into a fierce scowl. "I have every right to be in a nasty mood," he snarled. "My last two weeks would make the Hundred Years War look like a festival. I've been at the mercy of quacks whose stock answer to every question in, "We'll have to wait and see.' I've been the hapless victim of despotic nurses who've taken delight in bossing me, poking me, sticking tubes into orifices I didn't even know I had, and feeding me garbage food. The parts of my body that still have sensation have been in tremendous pain. I think I've got bedsores on my backside. I know I've got a blister on my tongue." He paused to draw in a deep breath. "And to top it all off, _you_ show up. Which brings me around to my original question. What the hell are you doing here?"

"I needed to use your shower," she said cheekily. "Excuse me."

"Don't you give me that-Hey, where—Come back here, Attha. _Attha!_"

Cagalli left him yelling her name. She leaned against the door she pulled closed behind her. When the drinking glass struck it, her ears absorbed the full impact of shattering glass. She whistled ands through the door called, "Wow, you're really ticked, aren't you?"

"She went downstairs and following her nose, found Pete in a kitchen that had a picture window as large as a movie-theater screen. It offered a spectacular view of the mountainside in the near distance and the Pacific Ocean on the far Horizon.

"Are you a masochist or what?" she asked, Pete looked at her in confusion, holding aloft a butcher knife with which he had been slicing vegetables faster than her eyes could move. "Never mind. Where'd you put my bags?"

Smiling happily, Pete left his work in the kitchen and escorted her upstairs again. "Right next door," he said, nodding toward the room where Athrun was.

"Yippee."

"You don't rike room?"

When she saw that Pete was crestfallen, she hastily inverted her sarcastic into a smile. "No, the room is terrific. Really."

She stepped past him and entered a guest bedroom suite that was twice as large as her whole apartment. It was better equipped, too, having small refrigerator with an automatic icemaker, a two-burner cooktop, and a wet bar in addition to the black marble bathroom that was positively hedonistic. "I knew I should have gone into the hotel business," she muttered as she ran her fingers over teal-green towels that were as plush as expensive carpet.

" 'Xcuse?"

"Nothing. Pete. I was just being covetous. When's dinner?"

"Eight o'clock."

She consulted her wristwatch and mentally accounted for the time zones she'd flown through. "That gives me time for a bath and a nap. Wake me up at seven-thirty." He bobbed his head rapidly. "How long has it been since Mr. Zala had a meal?"

"Not since come home."

"That's what I thought. He's not eating anything?" Pete shook his head. "Fix him a dinner tray."

"Won't eat. Throw on floor."

"Not this time, he won't," she said, her eyes gleaming with determination. "Oh, by the way, a courier should be delivering some equipment here this afternoon. If the van can make it up that goat path," she added as an aside. "And there's a broken glass in Prince Zala's room that needs to be swept up."

Pete wanted to unpack for her, but she shooed him out so she would avail herself of the bathtub with the built-in whirlpool. Sprawling on the king-size bed and pulling the satin sheet over her naked body, she fell instantly asleep. She would have liked at least another eight hours when the funny little servant knocked on the door, then entered carrying a glass of chilled pineapple juice on a silver tray.

"Thanks," she said after draining the juice in one swallow. "I'll be down shortly." Pete scuttled out. Cagalli dropped the sheet and regretfully left the bed. "Later," she told it, giving the satin sheets a lover's pat.

No one would blame her if she waited until the following morning to commence the physical therapy program with Athrun Zala. This had been a hellish day especially following her long trip. But she was being paid well for this job. Never let it be said that Cagalli Yula Attha had taken advantage of the sybaritic surroundings without giving full attention to her patient.

Besides, now that she was here, she was actually anxious to begin. Athrun's condition, along with his negative state of mind, were challenges that she, as a professional, couldn't resist tackling. Even the slightest improvement in a patient was often reason for celebration. Athrun needed the encouragement that came with accomplishing a small goal.

Then, too, the longer his muscles remained flaccid, without sensation or the ability to move, the less likelihood of a full recovery. By now he should have experience some sensation in those muscles. Cagalli couldn't afford to wait any longer to begin his therapy even if she wanted to.

With that sobering thought in mind, she left her suite wearing the same Hawaiian ensemble she had on when she arrived, sans the straw hat. Pete insisted that she eat her dinner in the dining room, though she sat alone at the glass table decorated with burning tapers in crystal holders and a lavish bouquet of orchids. The stir-fry vegetables and fish were delicious. She complimented Pete on the meal as he followed her upstairs carrying a dinner tray for the patient.

At Athrun's bedroom door she took the tray from him.

"If I don't come out alive, you have my permission to smother him in his sleep."

"Won't rike," Pete said, looking fearfully toward the closed door.

"Probably not, but it's only going to get worse before it gets better," she told him as she signaled with her head for him to open the door for her. "Best get started and get it over with." As soon as she had cleared the door, Pete closed it firmly.

Athrun was listlessly gazing out the window. He rolled his head towards the door and groaned when he saw her. "Go away."

"No way. Hey, that rhymes. I'm a poet and didn't know it."

The look he sent across the room was murderous. "Is Lacus responsible for your being here?"

"You don't think I'd come voluntarily, do you?"

"I thought she was my friend."

"She is. She wants to do what's best for you."

He barked a bitter laugh. "If you're the best, God help me should they decide to do worst."

"If it were up to m, I'd let you lie here and rot in your own self-pity." She shrugged. "But you've got lots of money and some of it will come my way if I stay here and give you physical therapy."

"Like hell!" he shouted.

"The accommodations here are fair to middling. The job includes a Hawaiian vacation that I can certainly use. Back home it's cold and rainy, and my tan needs refreshing. What a relief to get away from my regular job. I was working with a patient who is an even bigger jerk than you are… and if you throw that napkin on the floor one more time, Mr. Zala, I'll bloody well throw you down there to pick it up."

Standing with hands on hips beside his bed, she glared down at him. He returned her animosity measure for measure. "Take this tray and your ridiculous bedside manner and shove it both up—"

"I've heard it," she interrupted. "There's not an original insult or abusive phrase that I haven't heard. No matter how obscene, they don't faze me. So save your energy and my time and start eating your dinner. Because you're going to eat it before I leave this room. The sooner you do the former, the sooner I do the latter. It comes down to how long you can tolerate my company."

She set the bed tray across his lap and plopped down on the bed beside him, folding her arms across her middle. The motion plumped her breasts up and out, causing them to swell above the fabric of the strapless sarong. She watched the patient's eyes lower to her chest. But she didn't alter her position. Her expression remained impassive when he insolently raised his eyes back to hers.

"Does a view of your cleavage go with your services?"

"Fringe benefit," she replied with a cheeky smile, "thrown in for free."

"I've seen better."

"Not at this price, you haven't."

"What are you being paid? I'll double it to get you out of here."

"I figure you'd try that." She finished in the bowl of fruit salad on his dinner tray and came up with a pineapple spear. She sucked on it nonchalantly. "But you might as well know right off the bat that money isn't my only motive."

"Don't tell me you came here out of the goodness of your heart."

She made a face at him. "You know better than that."

"Then what?"

"Imagine what a boost it will be to my career to work with the great Athrun Zala. Pretty soon offers will come rolling in from movie stars with lower back syndrome and sports stars with stress injuries. Before it's over, I'll be as famous as you."

"You're wasting your time. I'll never be good for anything but to lie here and stare at the ceiling."

"Wanna bet, duckie? I'll have you walking if it kills me. If it kills both of us. In the meantime we're going to come to hate each other."

"We already hate each other."

She laughed. "So we're ahead of the game. Now be a good boy and eat these nice, plump veggies Pete had cokked for you."

"I'm not hungry."

"You've got to be. You haven't eaten in days. Pete said so," she picked a slice of banana out of the fruit salad and ate it. "He cringes every time your name is mentioned. What did you do to terrorize him, anyway?"

"I told him I was on speaking terms with Buddha and that he'd never reach nirvana if he didn't get out of here and stop pestering me. And the same goes for you."

"No good. I'm not a Buddhist."

"You know what I mean." He turned his head away. "Just get away from me. Leave me alone."

"Not till you've had dinner."

"You can't force me to eat."

"And you can't force me to leave. You can't move, remember?"

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Get out." He strained the words through a set of straight, white teeth.

"Not until I've given you all the expertise I've got. So that when I'm interviewed by _People _magazine I'll be able to say in all honesty, and with an eloquent little tear in my eye, that I did everything possible for you." She spread the linen napkin over his bare chest. "Nice pecs. They'll come in handy when you start moving yourself into the wheelchair. Nice form too. Very sexy."

"Go to hell."

"At the risk of repeating myself, not until you've eaten your dinner." She held a forkful of food near in his mouth. He refused to open it. "Look, Ace, you're in a state of malnutrition already. Because of the atrophy of muscles and bone, you've got negative nitrogen balance, which mean bad news. Unless you get some protein into your tissues, you're history. Besides that if you pack some meat on those bones, they won't protrude so much, which is one reason you've got decibitus ulcer, or in layman's term, bedsores on your backside.

"Now, I know you can digest because Mu La Flagga told me you could. You've also regained bowel and urinary control, which came as a great relief to me, and which is one reason I'm trying to talk you into eating a full meal. Otherwise, I would pretend I didn't notice that you were starving to death in addition to your osteoporosis, soft tissue ossification, contracture, etcetera that goes with lying around and not doing anything.

"To sum it up. Zala, you're dead in the water before we start unless you eat some of this food. Now, what'll it be?"

He stared at her, then at the fork still held near his mouth. "My arms aren't paralyzed. I can feed myself."

"Good. That's one less duty I'll have to worry about."

She passed him the fork. He looked at it for another long moment. Then crammed it into his mouth. It became apparent just how hungry he was. After that first bite, he ate ravenously, practically shoveling in the food. Because he was so busy chewing and swallowing. Cagalli handled the conversation almost single-handedly.

"I don't know when you saw Lacus last, but the baby has really blossomed in the last few weeks. Lacus is as wide as a barn and her boobs are out to here." She made a motion with her hands cupping air several inches in front of her chest. "Kira's giddy over them. She's convinced the baby is going to come early, though her doctor says everything's right on schedule. They've gotten the nursery painted and ready. All it needs is an occupant.

"Megan, their daughter, of course, can't wait to have the baby home so she can help take care of it. I want to see her the first time she's confronted with a dirty diaper. But her tune will change fast enough. That was an awfully indelicate belch, Zala. More water?

"Kirio, their son is afraid they're going to love the baby more than they love him, so he's being a real pill, and Lacus is letting him get by with it so as not to unbalance his psyche. Kira is acting like a complete dodo. For a man his age his daddyhood antics border on the absurd. But knowing him I guess it's understandable of one is onto that kind of thing."

"What kind of thing?" Athrun mumbled around a mouthful.

"You know, home and hearth."

"That's not for you?"

"Hardly!"

"You don't envy your brother?"

"Are you kidding?"

"You'd rather sleep around."

"What a tacky phrase, Mr. Zala," she said, taking umbrage. "I read the newspapers, same as you. I know what's going on. Nobody in his right mind 'sleeps around' anymore."

"That must really cramp your style."

"On the contrary," she said coldly." I've always been very particular about my bed partners."

"But you've never narrowed the number down to one."

"I think settling down with one man for life sounds _bor_ing." He harrumphed and blotted his mouth with the napkin, then tossed it down into the empty plate. "You missed the tapioca," Cagalli pointed out, pleased to see that it was all that was left of the food.

"I despise tapioca and Pete knows it. That's his way of defying me."

"What are you going to do about it," she taunted, "beat him up?"

"Very funny." He closed his eyes and laid his head on the pillow. "All right, I've eaten. Get lost."

"Oh, I can't. Not for a while."

His eyes popped open. "You said you'd leave me alone if I ate."

"Well, I fudge a smidgen. Now, don't look so venomous. We're just getting to the fun part."

"Somehow I doubt that."

She lifted the tray off his lap and set it on the floor near the door, which she opened. "Pete, we're ready," she called. Her voice echoed through the house.

"Ready for what? Look, I ate, isn't that enough?"

"Nope. We start tonight."

"Start what?"

"A smoldering affair." Athrun raised startled eyes. She laughed. "Don't you wish? Actually we start your physical therapy."

"I don't want physical therapy. It won't do any good. I'm not putting myself through that humiliation. Pete, get that crap out of here. What's in those boxes?"

"Portable therapy equipment."

"Get it out here."

"Soon this bedroom will look like a gymnasium. Hand me that screwdriver, will you, Pete?"

"Pete, if you value your job, if you value your Asian ass, you won't lift a hand to—All right, you're fired. Pete, didn't you hear me?" then in a stubborn tone of voice, "I won't use any of this. I mean it, you two. You're wasting your time."

"Will you shut up!" Cagalli yelled at him as she rammed the screwdriver into the palm of her hand. "Look what you made me do."

"This is my house," Athrun said in a tightly controlled voice. "I didn't ask for your services, Ms. Attha. I don't want them. I don't want you."

"Well, you've got me."

"You're fired."

"Didn't I mention that you can't fire me? No? Oh, that was part of the deal. Pete, hold this trapeze in place while I secure it to the wall. A little higher. There."

Athrun fumed while she, with Pete's assistance, set up the trapeze and two pulleys behind his bed. "That'll do for now," Cagalli said, stepping back to review their handiwork. "We won't need the other stuff until later, so just leave it downstairs for the time being. Thanks, Pete." She patted the top of his head. "You can close the door on your way out."

"You've gone to a lot of trouble for nothing," Athrun said after Pete had withdrawn.

"I know guys who would dearly _love _to have a trapeze installed over their beds." Far from smiling, he glowered more intensely. Cagalli sigh. "So much for levity. By using this trapeze, you can shift your weight and relieve pressure off any one spot. Unless you've grown fond of those bedsores." She smiled teasingly, but his face remained stony. "And anytime you want, you can exercise your upper torso and arms with the pulleys. That'll accomplish two things. It'll give you an appetite. If you get bored with the pulleys, I can bring you some dumbbells."

"Which is what you must think I am. A dumbbell. I won't bother myself with this. It's futile. I just want to—"

"Pout. Feel sorry for yourself. Sulk. Wallow in self-pity because you've finally found something that money can't buy."

"Yes!" he hissed. "And why not?" angrily he gestured down at his motionless legs beneath the sheet. "Look at me."

"I was about to, "Cagalli said calmly. Before he was prepared for it, she whipped back the sheet.

Athrun sucked in a startled breath. So did Cagalli, though she managed to hide it. She's seen bodies by the hundreds in every shape, size, and condition. She's never seen one this well made. It was proportioned like Michelangelo's _David_. But much more virile. And tanned.

It was obvious that he'd missed several days' meals. His ribs were individually delineated. It was obvious that before his accident he had been athletically active. The muscles of his things and calves were well defined it was also obvious that he could satiate even the most demanding woman.

"Very nice," Cagalli said with a studied air of indifference. "I can see why you're upset that such nice muscles are no longer working for you." She draped a white gym towel over his lower abdomen. "Let's get started."

"Doing what?"

"What the other three therapists tried to do before you scared them off. I'm going to take each joint through a passive exercise, rotating each one to the extent of its range."

"You're right. They all did that. It's a waste of time."

"My time. Hardly wasted because I'm being paid so well for it. And you haven't got anything else to do. So you might as well lie back and keep your mouth shut."

He summed up in two terse gutter words that he'd like to happen to her. She frowned down at him. "You're in no shape to do that either. Sorry. You're missing a real treat. And I'm afraid that once you're capable of it, you won't want me. If you think you hate me now, wait until I get to PNF."

"What the hell is that?"

"Physioneurologic facilitation."

His eyes sparked with dark fire. "That sounds dirty."

"It's nothing to look forward to, believe me. But for right now, passive exercise will do. Tonight, we'll keep you on the bed. But tomorrow morning, we'll tart standing exercise and then moving you to the mat table."

"Standing exercise?"

"On the tilt table. I know you're already familiar with it, so don't pull a dumb act on me."

"I hate that damn thing."

"It's not much fun, I'll grant you that. But you don't want your blood to pool, do you? Besides, standing aids in urinary drainage. I'd hate for you to have to go back to a catheter because while you're supine that can cause infection, stone formation, and vesicourethral reflux."

"Can we talk about something else?" he asked, his face turning pale.

"Sure. What do you want to talk about?"

"Nothing."

Standing beside the bed, Cagalli took his right foot between her hands and began rotating the stiff ball joint. "How often had Pete been turning you?" 

"He hasn't."

"You wouldn't let him."

"That's right. It's humiliating."

"You're supposed to be turned every two hours."

"Yeah, yeah."

"No wonder you've got bedsores on you're backside. What good are you doing it you won't let people help you?"

"I'm used to helping myself."

"A self-reliant, macho man."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Under the circumstances it's a stupid, counterproductive attitude to take. But," she rushed on when she saw he was about to take issue, "if you want to be self-reliant, then you can learn to turn yourself in bed." Seeing that she had his interest, she explained, "That's where the trapeze will come in handy. If you're self-conscious about using it, I suggest you practice when no one is around. Feel anything?"

"No."

She moved around the end of the bed and took his other foot between her hands. "Want to talk about it?"

"What?"

"The accident."

"No."

"I'm sorry about your friend."

"So am I," he said quietly, closing his eyes. "But maybe they're better off than I am."

"What a stupid thing to say. Do you honestly think that you'd better off dead?"

"Yes," he said bitingly. "Better that than being a useless lump for the rest of my life."

"Who says you will be? Your spinal cord wasn't severed. I know people who've had theirs severed and they're far from useless. They're productive human beings with jobs and families. It's all in the attitude you take."

"Does this lecture cost extra?"

"No, it's thrown I for the stupid, for the ignorant, for those with bad attitudes. Your prognosis for a full recovery is very good, though it might be a long time in coming."

"But not guaranteed."

She tilted her head to one side and eyed him knowledgeably. "None of us is guaranteed tomorrow, Zala. Besides, from what Lacus and Kira tell me, you're a gambler. Not only do you relish taking life-threatening risks like mountain climbing, but business risks as well. Didn't you, against the advice of your board, recently buy out a flounder chain of hotels in the Northeast? And hasn't that chain turned itself around?"

"Luck."

"Don't you feel lucky anymore?"

"Would you?" he challenged.

"Yeah. Lucky I wasn't renting space in a coffin."

He cursed lavishly and turned his head away. "How much longer is this going to take?"

"Could be weeks. Months maybe."

"I mean this. This…what you're doing now."

"An hour."

"Damn."

"Does it hurt?"

"No. I wish it did."

"So do I, Athrun."

His head snapped around and he shot her a hard look. "Don't you dare pity me."

"Pity?" she said, laughing shortly. "I wouldn't think of it. You're got enough self-pity. You're oozing the stuff. You sure as hell don't need mine."

Methodically she went through the regimen. His mind seemed detached from his body. He had no connection with it. What hadn't been shut off by his accident, he had closed and his head averted, taking no interest in what she was doing. When he looked at her, it was with unmitigated hostility.

"That's enough for tonight," she said at last/ "There is some constriction, especially in the lower extremities, but that's because they've been neglected since you left the hospital and is not a result of your accident."

"Thank you, Marcus Welby. Now, will you get your tush out of here and leave me in peace?"

"Sure. I'm exhausted."

"Take all that junk with you." He nodded toward the metal trolley Pete had rolled in earlier.

"What, that?" Cagalli asked innocently. "That stays. We'll need it tomorrow."

She removed the gym towel and re-covered him with the sheet. As she was bending over him to straighten it, he caught her forearms. His fingers and hands had seemingly suffered no loss of muscle control, flexibility, or strength. His grip was surprisingly hard.

"You want me to feel something?" he asked silkily. "Then why don't you do the physical therapy you do best?"

"Which is?"

The smile that had caused hearts all over the world to patter spread across his lips. He dropped one eyelid in a suggestive wink. "Come on, Cagalli. Hot little tart that you are, I'm sure you can think of something that would be good for me, a trick guaranteed to raise even a dead man. Why don't you straddle my lap and see the extent of range you get."

"Let me go."

He didn't. Instead he gripped her arms tighter and draws her down closer to him. "I've been lying here watching you sashay back and forth like you owned the place. I've listened to your irritating, nonsensical chatter till I'm sick of it. That smart mouth fo your is bound to be good for something besides making wisecracks. Let's see just how good you are at your job."

He yanked her down and kissed her hard. His tongue speared through her lips and plumbed her mouth with sleek, expert precision. He slid one hand around the back of her neck while his other moved to her breast. He kneaded it through the strapless bodice of the sarong, then pushed his hands inside and rubbed his fingertips back and forth across her nipple.

Cagalli wrestled herself free and backed out of his reach. She pulled her dress back into place and shook her hair over her shoulders as she squared them. Her mouth was wet and red from his kiss. She licked her lower lip. It felt swollen and bruised. And it tasted wonderful.

That unnerved her more than anything.

"It's going to take more than lewd propositions to scare me off, Mr. Zala. That kind of behavior is juvenile and unoriginal. It's characteristic of a healthy man who suffers an accident like yours to become an abusive sexist only to prove to himself that he's still a man. Be as disgusting and decadent as you want. It'll reflect on your character, not mine."

Furiously, he pounded the mattress with his fists.

"Why'd they send you?_ You?_ I mean—dear God!—you top the list pf people I would least rather have around."

"Vice versa, pal, but for as long as it takes, you're stuck with me."

"When this is all over," he said in a voice so menacing it sounded like a growl, "I'll personally kick you out of my house and back to the mainland."

Cagalli's eyes twinkled. "I thought you said you'd always be a useless lump." She laughed at his whey-faced expression when he realized he had trapped himself.

"Look at it this way. Kicking me back to the mainland will give you something to work toward. Nighty-night, ace."

OOo**O**

So, what do you think? Hope you like it. Please read and review… ^-^


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I **never** own GS or GSD…it was **somebody** else.

Athrun's Fall

Chapter 3

**OOo**

Athrun's suggestion hadn't been all that unappealing. That bothered her. What he had invited her to straddle his lap, the idea had stuck her as being erotic rather than crude.

Male patients commonly made obscene remarks and propositions as a means of venting their frustration. Ordinarily she dismissed the lewd comments with a chastising put-down or a flippant joke seconds after they were still echoing through her mind. Disturbing.

Not only disturbing, but farfetched. How could a man who couldn't even move, move her?

Why did it seem that all her senses were more finely tuned this morning? Perhaps it was the tropical setting. Bali Ha'i didn't hold a candle to Zala's mountain retreat. The landscape was gorgeous, the colors vivid, the climate balmy, the air perfumed with the heady fragrance of Polynesian blossoms. The house was an architectural triumph that maximized the vistas beyond its stucco walls and enormous windows. The décor was harmonious but eclectic, reflecting Athrun's variety of interests and taste.

Luxurious as they were though, Cagalli didn't think her surroundings were solely responsible for her sensual awareness. On the other hand, it was untenable to think that Athrun Zala might be.

She didn't like him. Not at all. When she was just a kid, her mother had warned her about such smooth operators. He was accustomed to ordering "Jump!" and a whole corps of subordinates would jump. Not only his bankroll, but his natural charm and God-like good looks had lured scores of cosmopolitan women to his side. He was a playboy. His newsworthy romantic liaisons were enough to make Cagalli snicker with contempt. Men like Athrun Zala had certainly never held any appeal for her.

Granted, Athrun did have a few virtues to his credit. He generously supported numerous charities. He'd acted as knight in shining armor to those poor little damsels who need work or help.

Aside from that, however, Cagalli had always been suspicious of him. As she told Lacus, she mistrusted anyone as polished as he. He must have a personality flaw that was as ruinous as a deep fault in a seemingly perfect diamond.

So why did her stomach go all aquiver whenever she thought about his kiss? When she had whipped that sheet back, she had wanted to impress him with a how blasé she was towards the nude male body. Well, her plan had backfired. It turned out that she was the one had been impressed. And in the wrong way.

Through the night she had gone into his rooms at two hour intervals to turn him. The first time her efforts had been met with vile cursing and name-calling. She had ignored it and forced him into his side. "Comfy?"

"Go to hell."

"Good night."

"_Go to hell._"

The next time her alarm went off and she stumbled into his room, he was moaning in his sleep. "Athrun?" she asked softly. She rolled him to his back. There were tears on his cheeks.

"Nicol?" he called fretfully. "Nicol? Answer me. _God no!_ I can't find them. Why aren't they saying anything?"

She turned him to his other side, adjusting the sheet, and withdrew without his ever awakening from his nightmare. She didn't leave until his tortured monologue had ceased and his breathing had become regular. He slept, or pretended to sleep, through the other times she had turned him. Each time she touched his warm skin she experienced a sensation, not unlike light-headedness, in her lower abdomen.

Crazy. For her to get jelly-kneed over any man. But _Athrun Zala_? Crazy.

Puling on white shorts and a white T-shirt with a huge red hibiscus flower silk-screened on the front, she left her bedroom. "God bless you, Pete," she told him when she entered the kitchen and her nose picked up the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Grinning from ear to ear, he poured her a cup of cream and sugar and sipping at the steaming coffee, sat down at the bar.

"Ham, eggs, pancakes?" he asked.

"No thanks. The fruit looks good." He's been arranging slices of mango, papaya, and pineapple on a platter when she came in. "And a slice of wheat toast, please. Any word from upstairs?"

"Use bedpan. Say, 'I don't rike pee in pan no more.'"

Cagalli laughed while she ate her light breakfast. "Good. Maybe that'll inspire him to get into a wheelchair so he can use the bathroom." She dusted toast crumbs off her hands. "Thanks for the breakfast. Time to attack. Is the tray ready?" she declined Pete's assistance and carried the tray up herself. Knocking once, she immediately pushed open the door.

"Good morn—" The second syllable died on her lips. She barely managed to set the tray on the credenza before rushing across the room toward Athrun's bed. "Lord, what is it?"

His face was twisted with agony. His lips were thin and white and stretched open to reveal clenched teeth. "Left thigh. Cramp," he gasped.

Cagalli flung back the sheet and gave his left thigh a cursory examination. The instant she touched the contracted muscle she said, "Spasticity." Her capable hands massaged the leg muscle. Athrun cried out twice.

"Do you want a pain pill?"

"No. I hate not being in control of my own mind."

"Don't be proud. If you need a pain pill—"

"No pills," he shouted.

"Fine," she shouted right back. Thankfully her touch was kinder than her tone of voice. She continued to massage his thigh. Finally the muscle began to relax and with it, his grimace of pain.

"Thanks," he said, opening his eyes slowly, "Damn. That was…What are you grinning at?"

"Are you dense? That's a good sign, you idiot. The muscles aren't flaccid anymore."

He stared up at her for a moment. When the reason for her smile registered with him, he reciprocate with a wide one of his own. "What does the spasticity mean?"

"It probably means that the swelling has gone down and relieved the pressure around the vertebrae affecting those muscles. Can you feel this?" she pinched his bare thigh.

He gave her a baleful look. "It's a good thing for you that all I feel is pressure, no pain."

"But you can feel pressure?" he nodded. "How about here?" she squeezed the muscle above his knee.

"No."

"Here?" she ran her fingers up the sole of his foot.

"Nothing."

"Don't look discouraged. The sensation will start in your thigh and work down. How about your right thigh?" she scratched it lightly with her fingernails. He said nothing. When she raised inquisitive eye toward him, he was staring at the spot where her hand was resting on his thigh.

"Pressure," he said gruffly, reaching for the sheet and pulling it up. Cagalli turned away quickly.

"Great. That's terrific news. Although it means that you'll be quite uncomfortable when those muscles contract. We'll be spending more time together, working harder and more often." She went on with brisk efficiency. "I'll have to notify La Flagga. He'll want to examine you. I'll call him while you're eating." She bridged his lap with the bed tray and left the room before he could say anything more.

When she got to her bedroom, which Pete had already straightened in her brief absence, she reached for the telephone on the nightstand and dialed a number. But it wasn't Dr. La Flagga in Honolulu who answered.

"Hi, Kira, it's Cagalli."

"Hi! How are you? Trip go okay?"

"Don't you dare pull this buddy-buddy act with me. I don't feel like being civil. I'm furious with you."

"Furious? With me?"

"You were no doubt in on the conspiracy."

"What conspiracy is that, Cagalli?"

"You know damn well what conspiracy. The one you and Lacus cooked up to have me stranded on an island with this generation's equivalent to Conrad Hilton."

"Hardly stranded. And hardly just 'an island.' I hear Maui's beautiful. I've always wanted to go there. Maybe next summer we can take the kids—"

"Kira!" after counting to ten Cagalli said tensely, "I've had second thoughts. I don't want thus lousy job. He's horrible. Awful. Worse than I expected. He's been verbally and physically abusive."

"Physically? How can a paralyzed man be physically abusive?"

_He kissed me till my ears rang._ She didn't say that, of course. She stammered around an answer and finally came up with, "He threw a drinking glass at me."

"And hit you with it? Lacus, come here. It's Cagalli. Athrun threw a glass at her."

Cagalli heard shuffling sounds as the receiver was transferred to Lacus. She also heard Kirio's wailing in the background, "I wanna talk to Aunt Cagalli." He was shushed by both parents. Finally Lacu's worried voice reached her. "Athrun threw a glass at you? That doesn't sound at all like something he would do."

Cagalli cursed beneath her breath, then parroted Lacu's sentence in a mocking voice. "I told you, Lacus. When something like this happens to a man, his whole personality undergoes a change. At least temporarily. And usually for the worse. I didn't like Zala to begin with. I sure don't like him now."

"If he threw a glass, you must have provoked him. What did you do?" came Kira's voice.

"Thanks a lot!"

"Well, I know better than anybody how outrageous you can be, Cagalli."

"I've been strictly professional. I haven't done one outrageous thing since I got here." She thought about the salad bar earrings and the theatrical way she'd unfurled the bed sheet, but decided that, all things considered, what she told her brother and Lacus was basically the truth.

"The man is impossible. This situation is impossible. I agreed to work with Zala in a hospital, with other staff around to help buffer his angst. Staying here alone with him is something else entirely. You coerced me into it. And I want to come home. Today. Right now."

"What's she saying?" Cagalli heard Kira ask.

"That she wants to come home."

"I was afraid of this. They're like fire and water. They just don't mix, Lacus."

"But she's the best therapist we know. And Athrun's the best friend we've got. Here, you're her twin brother; you have to talk to her."

Cagalli rolled her eyes heavenward and impatiently tapped her foot on the floor. As soon as she knew Kira had receiver back she said scathingly, "I'm not a child, homesick and wanting to come back from the camp, Kira. Coming to Maui wasn't part of the deal."

"It can't be all bad."

"I didn't say it was all bad. This house could be sultan's place. There's a cute, funny little guy who is a cross between and angel and a slave. He thinks I'm wonderful and waits on me hand and foot." She sighed. "It's _him_. Casanova Zala. Treating a patient in his condition requires stamina and energy and boundless tolerance. And the bottom line is that I just can't tolerate Athrun Zala."

"Put personal considerations aside, Cagalli. The man need you."

"It's not just _my_ personal considerations. He's as dead set against my being here as I am. Believe me. He nearly had a stroke when I showed up yesterday. We simply can't stomach one another and never could."

"Give it a day or two more at least."

"But—"

"Has he shown any improvement?"

Compelled to tell the truth, she gave Kira a rundown of Athrun's condition, including the muscle cramp and the improvement it signaled.

"Well, I think that's great news!" he exclaimed. Cagalli listened as he repeated it to Lacus. "So you've already made progress. Just hang in there. Athrun'll come around. He'll get used to you."

_But will I get used to him? To touching him?_ That was at the crux of her dilemma and the reason behind this phone call. Athrun hadn't been the only one momentarily captivated by the sight of her very feminine hand juxtaposed to a very masculine part of his body. What that sight had done to her was far more terrifying than any temper tantrum he could throw.

"You can stick it out a few more days, can't you?" Lacus wheedled. Kira had passed the telephone receiver back to his wife.

Cagalli sighed her surrender. "I guess I can. But start today to find a replacement. Check with the hospital. I'm sure my supervisor can give you a long list of competent therapists. I suggest a man. I think a man would work better with Zala." What woman, no matter how businesslike, could maintain a professional attitude toward that body?

"I'll see what I can do," Lacus told her, sounding unhappy about it.

"Today, Lacus. Find someone to take my place."

"It won't be easy."

"Try."

"I will."

"_Try._"

"_I will._"

"I mean it, Lacus. What good will it do for me to get Zala walked again, only to have him spend the rest of his life in prison for murdering me? I'm glad you think that's funny!"

Angered by Lacus's spurt of laughter, she slammed the receiver down. She hadn't even asked Lacus how she was feeling, but if she could laugh that hard, she must be feeling wonderful.

Cagalli's professional integrity would be jeopardized if she deserted Athrun in his present condition. Hopefully within a few days, though, she could leave and someone else would take over his physical therapy. In the meantime she would go through the motions as expertly as she knew how, but with as much detachment as she could maintain.

In that pragmatic frame of mind, she reentered Athrun's bedroom. "Good. You ate all your breakfast." She removed the bed tray.

"What'd the doctor say?"

"The doctor?"

"Didn't you call the doctor?"

"Oh, uh, he wasn't in yet."

"He gets there early in the morning."

"Then I guess he was making rounds."

"He said something you don't want to tell me, didn't he?" Athrun asked suspiciously. "He told you not to get excited about the muscle cramp, that it didn't signify anything, right?"

Putting her hands on her hips she faced him. "God, you're paranoid."

"Then why don't you tell me what he said?"

"If you must know, I didn't talk to the doctor at all. I called Lacus and Kira."

"What for?"

"To quit." When Athrun showed surprise, she demanded, "Well, isn't that what you want?"

"Yeah, sure, only—"

"Well?"

"You don't strike me as a quitter."

"I'm not. Usually. But our dislike for each other is so strong I'm afraid it will hamper your progress."

"Aren't you professional enough to put personal considerations aside?"

That was the second time in the space of a half hour that she'd heard those words. This time they were coming from Athrun Zala in the form of a dare. His head was arrogantly tilted to one side, a nonverbal challenge in itself.

Turbulent amber eyes narrowed on him. "Damn right I am. Are you man enough to take the therapy without slinging personal insults at me?"

"Damn right."

"No slurs. No complaining. No temper tantrums."

"Agreed."

"Sometimes you'll hurt like hell, but I won't let up."

"I can take the pain."

"How badly do you want to walk again?"

"Walking isn't the issue. I want to run and sail and ski and…and climb that damn Italian peak."

"Then we've got weeks, possibly months, of hard work cut out for us. You'll work and sweat harder than you ever have. Before we're finished, you'll push yourself to limits of endurance you didn't know you had."

"I'm ready."

Cagalli carefully hid her smile. His attitude had taken completely turnaround. At least she'd achieved that much. He was no longer sulking like a wounded ogre, snarling at everybody who invaded his miserable space.

"What's first?" he asked, his eyes eager.

"A bath."

"Huh?"

"A bath. You stink, Zala."

**OOo**

If you're wondering why I am well informed about physical therapy? My aunt is a therapist. She told me a story about her private patient that she never liked because of his high-and-mighty attitude, and well, my mind just went on its own little fantasy. Thus, conclude the history of this story. Well, I hope you like it. Ill try to post the next chapter very soon but until then…R&R. ^-^


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** GS is not my property…

Athrun's Fall

Chapter Four

**OOo**

He folded his arms across his chest and hunched his shoulders defensively. "I can't take a bath."

"Not in a tub, no. but I can give you one in bed."

She wheeled the hospital cart close to his bed. Taking a large washbowl from it, she disappeared into his bathroom to fill it with warm water.

"Pete can bathe me," Athrun called to her.

"It's not Pete's job."

"It is if I say it is."

"I thought we had an agreement that you wouldn't complain," she said, huffling with exertion as she carried the filled bowl back to the cart.

"I didn't know our agreement included bed baths."

"It does. You should have read the fine print."

"A grown man being bathed in bed. It's humiliating."

"Not as humiliating as having BO,"

With an assumed air of nonchalance she began to place towels under his body. He was capable of moving his torso to one side while she spread towels beneath it, but she had to roll his hips up in order to slide the towels beneath them and his legs.

To cover the awkwardness of the situation she asked, "Do you prefer a particular soap?"

"In the bathroom," he muttered.

She found a bar of soap in his shower. It was scented with an expensive, imported men's fragrance. "Very nice," she told him, sniffing at the bar. "Distinctive without being cloying."

"Glad you approve," was his sarcastic replay.

"Do you want to wear the cologne too?"

"Always."

"Then as soon as you shave you can put some cologne on."

"Shave?"

"Unless you'd rather I—"

"I can shave myself," he snapped.

"Then one might wonder why you haven't." she flashed him an insincere, sugary smile. "Or are you planning to grow that scraggly shadow into a full beard?"

He lapsed into a sullen silence as she folded back one side of the sheet and with efficient motions, dampened the washcloth and rubbed the soap into it until she had worked up a lather. She washed his foot first. As she was sponging his toes, she said, "Tickle?"

"Very funny."

"Come on, Zala, don't be such a sourpuss."

"Paralysis is something to laugh about?"

She frowned at him. "Laughter can't hurt. It might help. Are your toes normally ticklish?"

He turned his head and looked at her in a different way. His eyes gave her an insinuating once-over that was so hot it would have wilted the petals of the hibiscus on her chest had it been real. "Once I'm back to normal, maybe you can find out," he drawled in a sexy voice.

"I won't be giving you bed baths then."

"You wouldn't necessarily have to be giving me a bed bath. You could be doing something else to my toes."

"Like what?"

He named several pastimes, all prurient.

The washcloth became still in her hands for several telling seconds before she dipped it into the bowl to rinse it out. She shot Athrun, who was smiling a tomcat grin, a sour glance. "How depraved."

"And fun."

"This conversation is bordering on the lascivious, Zala. That violates our agreement too." She patted him dry, then covered that leg and circled the end of the bed to wash the other.

"How so?"

"I don't discuss my private life with patients."

"Don't want them getting excited, huh?"

"Exactly."

He studied her for several minutes as she routinely went about her work. "I can't understand how you and Kira grew up to be so different."

"Most people recognize us as siblings right off."

"There's a family resemblance," he said musingly, "but there the similarity ends. You're as different as night and day."

"We both kinda have this same feature but with different color."

"Yes, he's a kind and sympathetic brunette. And you're—"

Cagalli replaced the sheet and glanced up at him curiously. "I'm what?"

"A bold and audacious and aggressive blonde."

"So is Hulk Hogan. Thanks a lot." She raised his right arm and began sponging it with the soapy cloth.

"I didn't mean it as an insult."

"Oh, really?"

"No. apparently quite a few men have found your flamboyance attractive."

"Now, I'm flamboyant," she muttered out of the side of her mouth like a comic stepping out of character to address the audience.

Athrun laughed. "The first time I saw you, you had a feather hanging from your ear and were wearing tight black leather pants and knee-high boots. I call that a bit flamboyant."

"That's one of my favorite outfits," she said defensively. "however, on that particular day I was wearing it at a patient's request."

"A man?"

"Uh-huh. He'd been injured in a motorcycle race. I wore the outfit to cheer him up."

"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Cheer him up."

She glanced down into Athrun's face and saw that his expression, as well as his tone of voice, had turned serious. "Yes, I did."

"Do you always go to such extremes to cheer up your make patients?" there was a trace of accusation in his voice. Cagalli chose to ignore it.

"I give all my patients equal considerations," she answered evenly.

"Do you?" he stopped her hand by covering it with his own.

During their conversation she'd been mechanically doing her duty. She realized now that his nipples were erect, having been lightly abraded by the washcloth. His heart was beating strongly into her palm.

Just how long had this conversation been going on? How long had her hands been moving over his chest? And for whose benefit? His or her own?

His softly spoken question brought her to attention. She dragged her hand free and quickly swished the cloth in the basin of water and wrung it out. "Here, wash your ears and neck and…and anything else I didn't get around to. Use this towel to dry yourself. I'll give you some privacy while I change the water."

She pushed the cart away from his bed so fast that water sloshed over the rim and the basin. Her hands were trembling when she carried it onto the bathroom to empty it onto the tub. She refilled it and cleared her throat loudly to let him know that she was on her way back into the bedroom.

He was withdrawing his hand from beneath the sheet. She didn't look hi directly in the eye when she took the washcloth from him and dampened it with fresh water. "Now your back."

"My back's fine."

"You said you had bedsores."

"I lied to get your sympathy."

"You're lying now."

"You'll never know."

"Look, Athrun," she said, impatiently shifting all her weight to one shapely hip and throwing the other off center, "those sores are not going to get any better until they're washed and I get some if this antiseptic ointment on them." She took a silver tube of cream from a drawer in the cart and wagged it in front of his face. "If I don't treat them now, they'll probably get infected."

"Okay, okay. Roll me over like a slug."

"Next time spare us both the argument."

Athrun wasn't muscle-bound, but he had a tall, rangy, athletic body. It cost them both some effort to roll him to his side. She whistled when she saw the oozing blisters on his back and buttocks.

"Thanks," he said dryly.

"That wasn't a wolf whistle, Zala. This is icky."

"Is that a medical term?"

"No, that's my own word to paraphrase putrid, disgusting, and ugly."

"Your bedside manner needs work."

"Your backside needs work. Feel free to scream."

He didn't scream, but he cursed fluidly as she swabbed the sores, then liberally applied the healing ointment. "It's your own fault," she told him after he had issued a particularly lurid scream of gutter words. "You should have let Pete turn you every so often. From now on use the trapeze to he;[ you shift positions."

"I practiced this morning."

"Good boy. You get a gold star."

"Are you finished?" he shot her a dark, threatening looks over his shoulder.

She gave him a broad wink. "Finished what? Treating the sores or admiring your cute little buns?"

"Cagalli," he ground out.

She smacked his taut cheek at a place where it was clear of abrasions. "Relax. I didn't have rape in mind. Has your incision been giving you any discomfort?" she examined it, touching it gently, but could see no cause for concern.

"It itches now and then."

"You can feel that?"

"Yes."

"Good. I see no problems with the scar. Your future lovers will probably find it fascinating."

"I'm glad to hear it. Are we done?"

"No, I'm going to wash your back now. That should feel very nice."

If his deep sighs were any indication, it felt wonderful. "I guess all that moaning and groaning mean you approve," she remarked several minutes later as she blotted his skin dry. "How about some lotion?" she rubbed a dab of lotion between her hands and began massaging it into his back.

"That feels great. A little to the…ah, there. Hmm."

"You sound orgasmic," she teased.

"Compared to how I've felt recently, I am."

Smiling, she applied more pressure to her fingertips and slid her hands down the supple contours of his back. No fat here. No superfluous tissue. He was as tight as a drum.

"Cagalli?"

"Hmm?"

"Will I ever be again?"

Alert to the change in his inflection, she lifted her hands so that they were no longer in contrast with his skin. "Be what?"

"Orgasmic."

"Depends on whom you take to bed." Her jocularity was as flat as a three-day-old soda.

Reaching behind him, Athrun caught her hand and pulled it forward until her arm was draped over his shoulder and her hand was tucked against his throat. "Don't play games with me. I want to know the truth. Will I ever be able to enjoy a woman again? Will I ever be able to enjoy me?"

Cagalli stared down at his head and the tousled midnight hair that covered it. He was gorgeous. What woman wouldn't enjoy just looking at him? His profile was perfect, his nose just looking at him? His profile was perfect, his nose straight and long; his jaw is perfect and strong.

But he didn't want to hear that he was handsome. That no longer mattered. She doubted any man on earth would swap his virility for perfect good looks. She had been asked this question by every male patient who found himself in circumstances similar to Athrun's. it was that they always wanted to know first. When it came down to this crucial question, it didn't matter how many material possession this guy had, or how much money he had, or how much prestige he had been awarded. He wanted to know if his manhood was intact, if he would be sexually functional.

Cagalli answered as truthfully as she was able. "I don't know, Athrun. It will depend on which vertebrae, if any, were damaged beyond repair. Your body underwent a tremendous trauma. It'll take time and a lot of hard work, but it's my educated guess that you'll eventually be as good as new."

She eased him over onto his back. Her compassionate smile faltered when it was met by eyes filled with doubt and suspicion.

"You're lying."

Taken off guard by his unfair accusation, she counterattacked. "I am not!"

"You've all been lying to me."

"If the doctors told you they don't know, they don't know."

"They know," he snarled. "But why'd they send you to break the bad news to me? Or did you volunteer? Did you see this as your golden opportunity once and for all to win this private war we've been waging since we met?"

"You must have landed on your head when you fell off that mountain." The scarlet hibiscus bloom on the front of her T-shirt trembled with indignation. "I told you that I didn't want to come here. I tried to get out of it this morning, but Lacus and Kira whined and begged until I agree to stay with you until they can find a replacement, which can't be soon enough for me. In the meantime I'll carry out my duties, but I won't put up with your abusive or crazy delusions."

He aimed an index finger at the tip of her nose. "Just don't lie to me."

"I didn't."

"And don't mock me."

"I haven't mocked you." She gasped, mortified at the thought. "I would never maliciously tease someone in your condition."

"Maybe not in words, but in deeds."

"Deeds? What the hell are you talking about?"

"For starters, you could wear decent clothes in front of me instead of fanning around in shorts. You look like a beach bunny scouting out her next easy lay."

"_What?_"

"Ever heard of shoes? Most women wear them on their feet out of propriety and modesty. They don't go barefoot unless…unless they're asking for it."

Her eyes grew dangerously dark. "You sexist slime."

"And I thought nurses wore caps instead of letting their hair hang free."

"I'm not a nurse."

"That's for damn sure. What kind of ointment was that? Those sores on my tail are killing me!"

"I'm delighted to hear it. It shouldn't happen to a nicer guy.!"

She stormed towards the door. He grabbed hold of the trapeze above his head and pulled himself into a sitting position. "Where are you going? Get back here. I'm not through with you."

Whirling around, Cagalli shouted, "Well, I'm through with you. For the time being anyway. You'd better rest up, buster, because when I come back this afternoon, we're going to get your blistered butt out of that bed. Understand?

"Between now and then, I want you to shave that shadow starting to appear on you. You smell a damned sight better, but you still look like a street thug. If you're not shaved when I come back, I'll do it myself." Her eyes glinted with blue malevolence. "And the way I feel right now, I don't think you want me anywhere near your throat with razor."

She slammed the door behind her.

Cagalli stared down into the glass-filled dustpan that Pete had tried to hide from her. "He won't own a drinking glass if he keeps this up." Pete emptied the shards of glass in the compactor. "What's he doing now?" he pantomimed sleeping and Cagalli nodded. "Good. He'll need that rest this afternoon. Did he shave?"

Pete's face split into a wide grin. "Yes, then…" he slapped his cheeks and chin.

Cagalli laughed and said to herself, "Cologne. Vanity is a healthy sign."

As long as Athrun was napping, she put on a swimsuit and went out to enjoy the pool. Pete served her launch on the terrace. She was dozing in a chaise lounge when he trotted out and trapped her on the arm.

"Doctor come."

"Oh, I didn't expect him until later." She pulled on her cover-up and padded into the house, meeting the doctor in the foyer. "Hi, Mu. You're here early, aren't you? Or did I fall asleep?"

"I'm early. I apologize. Right after you called, someone canceled an afternoon appointment, so I decided to take and earlier plane. How is he?"

"Meaner than a junkyard dog," she replied with an abruptness that startled the doctor. "Well, you asked."

"I was referring to hid physical condition."

She filled in the gaps, having given him a cursory report over the telephone earlier. "I thought you should know about the spasticity."

"It's definitely a good sign. I'll examine him now."

She accompanied him up stair and pointed out the room. "I'll wait if you don't mind. The last time I wan in Mr. Zala's room, we were swapping death threats."

The doctor laughed, but he was unsure whether or not she was joking. As soon as the door to Athrun's bedroom closed behind him, Cagalli went to her suite and showered. She was dressed and waiting with a pitcher of chilled pineapple juice when he came back downstairs.

"I think he's made astounding progress," the doctor said enthusiastically, accepting the glass of juice with a nod of thanks. "He was working out on the pulleys when I went in."

"This afternoon I plan to get him on the tilt table. From there we'll go to a chair. The sooner he's mobile, the better his attitude is going to get."

"Despite the improvements, I noticed that he's still belligerent."

"That's an understatement. You might as well know that I've asked to replaced."

"Oh?"

"I'm not the right therapist for Zala. Our personalities are on a collision course. They keep getting in the way."

"Sometimes that's exactly the kind of spark the patient needs. Antagonism can act as a stimulant. It prompts them to try harder."

"Yes, well, that's fine, well, and good, but I refuse to be Zala's personal punching bag."

"You've been a punching bag for the other patients. That goes with the nature of your profession. You knew before you accepted this job that Mr. Zala was likely to be obnoxious and recalcitrant."

"Well, he's certainly living up to my expectations. I can't get anywhere with him."

"On the contrary, from what I've seen, you've been the tonic he needed. Speaking for myself and the other doctors who have been consulted on his case, I hope you stay, Ms Attha. It would be a shame for you to desert this patient when you're making such tremendous headway."

"Is this the classic quilt trip you're laying on me or what?"

He smiled a he consulted his wristwatch. "I've got to leave you with the thought. The plane is waiting at the airfield to take me back to Oahu." He headed for the door, where Pete was standing by to open it. "Oh, almost forgot," the doctor said, nodding down at a large canvas mailbag that had been propped against the wall, "here is some mail that was sent to the hospital for Mr. Zala."

"All that?" Cagalli asked incredulously.

"Your patient is a very popular man, Ms. Attha. I'm certain you're aware of how vital an individual he is. Or was until this tragic accident. He approached everything he did with an exuberance that never flagged. It's no wonder he's somewhat crotchety, id it, now? Well, good-bye. Call me daily and at any time if there's a chance."

"Thanks for nothing," she mumbled as she watched his retreating back. She felt every ounce of the guilt he's put on her as she climbed the stairs, anxious to see for herself all this tremendous headway the doctor had referred to.

Indeed, Athrun did look better than he had that morning, and more than a close shave was responsible. "Hi," she said with uncharacteristic timidity.

"Hi,"

"I approve." She indicated his clean appearance.

"I approve," he said, taking in her more modest attire—jeans and sneakers.

"Well, I thought about putting on my burnoose and veil, but frankly, Zala, it's hot and uncomfortable and the material itches. So if you'll do…"

He laughed. "You're crazy."

"I don't care." Nervously she dried her palms on her jeans and groped for a graceful means of switching subjects. "You did a real snow job on the doctor. He went on and on about how much you'd improved. Did you show off and perform a trick you haven't shown me?"

"Come here." She moved closer to his bed. He peeled back the sheet. She was amused to find him wearing a pair of briefs and wondered how much effort it had taken Pete and him to get them on. "Take a look at that."

"Calvin Klein," she remarked with a bored yawn. "I'm not a label conscious."

"Not my underwear. Look."

He pointed down at his femoral muscle. She saw it flex slightly. "Bravo." Smiling down at him and applauding, she noticed that his brow was beaded with sweat. Just that much movement had taxed him, but it was movement and she couldn't have been more pleased. "How about going through some exercise to relax you?"

"Fine."

"Don't agree so readily. We'll move into the hard part soon."

She worked on all his joints, then rolled his hips one way while rolling his shoulders in the opposite direction. He was in that position when she asked. "By the way, who's Meer?" his head snapped around. "Well, I certainly struck a nerve here, didn't I?"

"How do you know about Meer?"

"I don't. That's why I asked. The doctor brought over a canvas bag full of mail for you. I glanced inside and the first three envelopes I saw had a return address in Switzerland and the name Meer Campsomething or other foreign embossed in the corner."

"She's just this woman I was seeing."

"_Seeiing?_

"You know what I mean," he said crossly.

"Oh yeah, I know what you mean. Seeing equals sleeping with."

"What of it?"

"Nothing. It's simply that I didn't know anybody really named their kid Meer."

"I didn't know anybody really named their kid Cagalli."

She had the grace to laugh. "You've got a point."

He considered her face for a moment, especially her mouth. "Well, I don't know but that name suited you better."

"Hmm…"

"Dammit, stop that." The words rushed out, tumbling over each other.

She was trying to bend his knee at a right angle and the limb was resisting the movement. She applied more pressure. He gnashed his teeth and made a hissing sound. "Does it hurt?"

"Hell, yes, it—" His gaze sprang to hers. "Is that good?"

"Yes, numskull. Let's work together to try to bend it. The day will come when you'll be try to bend it and I'll work against you. That's when you'll hate me."

"Make me walk, Cagalli, and I'll love you."

For a moment their eyes locked. Cagalli was the first to glance away. She made a joke out of it. "They all say that. How soon they forget when they're well."

She made several more attempts at bending both his knees. It cost them energy and sweat. Still, she didn't let up. Not until she and Pete had transferred him to the tilt table and he stood upright on it for almost half an hour.

"You've been goldbricking, haven't you, Zala?"

He smiled, looking extremely proud of himself. "I was up to half an hour twice a day before I left the hospital."

"The it was really stupid of you to leave."

"It didn't seem like much, standing against a table that was actually doing the standing for me."

"But it is much. Since you're so adept at it, I think we can move on to bigger and better things."

When he stretched out full on his bed again, he drew in a breath of profound relief. "I'm always afraid I'm going to tip out of that thing. I'm glad it's over."

"Hardly over, Zala. Take five. Then we really go to work."

She crossed to the door and pulled it open with s flourish. Using the same theatrics, she disappeared for a second. When she returned, she was riding in a wheelchair.

**OOo**

Well, I hope you like it. ^-^ & Please R&R…


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I never own GS…not now, not ever.

Athrun's Fall

Chapter Five

**OOo**

"Beep beep." She made several trips around the room before bringing the wheelchair to a stop at his bedside. Smiling up at him, she used a corny twang to say, "It comes loaded with options. Wire wheels, custom upholstery, power steering. Low mileage too. Yessir, you'd do well to put your money into this baby." Her audience wasn't amused. In fact, Athrun's deep frown expressed intense dislike. "Would you rather see another model?"

"Get that damn thing out of my sight."

"_What?_ I thought you'd be excited."

"I don't care what you thought. I won't humiliate myself by struggling to get out of bed, only to wind up in a chair I don't want to be in. the doctor say's I'm making progress from here. That's good enough for me."

"Oh, I doubt that." She leapt from the chair and bore down on him. "Are you reconciled to spending the rest of your life in bed?"

"If necessary."

She stubbornly shook her head. "Well, you might be ready to give up, but I'm not."

"What business is it of yours?"

"You're my patient."

"So?"

"So, until you can fight me off, you're at my mercy."

"What do you mean?"

Rather than answering him, she marched to the door and flung it open. "Pete! Get up here," she hollered in a most unladylike fashion. In a matter of seconds his tiny shoes were making slapping sounds on the stairs.

"Yes, Cagarri?"

"Help me get Mr. Zala into the wheelchair. Then bring that van around to the front door."

"We go?"

"That's right. We go. And so does he." She hitched her head backward to indicate Athrun.

His face was stony, his jaw indomitable. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Yeah, yeah, you've come here to die the way ancient Indians and elephant go into the mountains to await death. You'd like to lie here in your own self-pity and let those perfectly beautiful muscles in your legs shrivel." She jabbed him in the chest. "But I'm not going to let you."

"You can't force me to do anything I don't want to do."

"You're right, I can't. But before you make up your mind to quit, I won't show you something."

"I don't know what you plan to do, but you'll never pull it off."

"Oh, no?" she flashed him a dazzling smile that soon turned brittle and hard. "Watch me." She approached the bed. "Okay, Pete. I'll get his top. You take his feet."

Stepping behind Athrun, she leaned him forward from the waist. Sliding her arms beneath his, she spanned his torso and locked her hands together in front of his chest.

He fought viciously, flailing his arms. "Save your strength, Zala. I've handled men who outweigh you by a hundred pounds."

"Let me go, you bitch." He tried to pry her fingers apart, but she squeezed them into fists.

"If you don't calm down, I'll restrain you," she warned. "I'll tie your arms down. Ready, Pete?"

"Damn you, no!" Athrun roared as she hoisted his body over the edge of the bed and lowered him into the wheelchair. Pete, not wanting to be involved but realizing the necessity of it, followed Cagalli's directions and placed Athrun's feet on the footplates.

Athrun immediately curled his fingers around the armrests of the chair and levered himself up. Cagalli knew that trick. Before he succeeded in launching himself up and out, she stepped in front of him.

"Don't ever try it. If you do, I'll tie you in there, I swear. We're going out for drive. You either go with dignity or without. It's up to you."

His green eyes drilled into hers with hatred that was as palpable as it was normal at this stage in his therapy. Cagalli tried her best to ignore and not reciprocate it. But at the moment she felt like slapping him. "Pete, go get the van."

He scuttled out thankfully. Cagalli stepped behind the wheelchair, released the brake, and pushed it forward. They had no difficulty getting to the elevator, which she had been delighted to discover earlier in the day. But because of Athrun's height and weight, she had trouble lifting the wheels of the chair over the door facings. They reached the front of the house just as Pete was bringing the specially equipped van around. She rolled the chair into place and locked it down.

"Aren't you even curious as to where we're going?" she asked, looking into Athun's hostile face as the hydraulic lift raised the wheelchair into the van.

What he did was universally accepted as the ultimate shoe of contempt.

"Guess that answers the question." She secured the wheelchair inside the van and climbed on herself. "For your information, Dr. La Flagga made arrangements for the van. You're free to use it as long as it's necessary. You might want to send him a thank-you note."

Athrun merely turned his head aside and stared disinterestedly through the window. Pete, sitting in a cushion because of his short stature, put the van in gear. Cagalli gave him directions as he drove, but if Athrun guessed where she was taking him, he gave no indication of it.

Only when Pete drove through the gates of the institution did Athrun show any emotion or interest. When he read the name on the discreet sign, he whipped his head around and silently demanded an explanation from her.

"That's right, Athrun. This is a rehab center for parand quadriplegics. If you weren't so damned rich and able to afford private care, this is where you might be. Drive slow, Pete. I want him to see this."

"Look over there," she said, pointing through the windshield. "There are two teams of men playing basketball. I'm sure none of them chose to be in a wheelchair. They'd rather be running up and down the court, but at least they're laughing, having a good time, making the best of a tragic situation.

"Stop for a moment, Pete." Pete did as she asked. "There's the swimming pool, Athrun. Look at all those children. They're behaving very much like ordinary children do in a swimming pool. Except they're not ordinary. They're very special." Her eyes glazed with tears. "Special because it's not easy for them to even get to a pool, much less swim in one. They can't run off a diving board and jump in. they can't do a cannonball or go the length of the pool underwater."

Too emotional to say anything more, she signaled Pete forward again. When he stopped at a crosswalk, they watched and waited while a nurse wheeled her paraplegic charge across the street. The young patient was smiling at something the nurse said.

"Take a good look at her, Athrun. You re very much alike. But there are two major differences. She's smiling, not sulking. And her paralysis is permanent." Cagalli spread her arms wide to encompass the entire compound. "That's right. Everybody here will stay in a wheelchair for life. And they're grateful for even that much mobility."

She furiously swiped at the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. "Hoe dare you…how _dare_ you behave with such unconscionable selfishness when you have an excellent chance of walking again, of living a normal life, and they don't." she shuddered. Staring Athrun down, she said tightly, "Take us home, Pete."

It was a long, silent ride home.

**OOo**

The following morning she waited until she knew Athrun had eaten breakfast before going into his room. Upon their return the evening before she had got him back into bed, then left him without a word. Though it had been a breach of professional ethics, she'd had no second thoughts about talking him to rehab center. He had deserved the shock treatment. She shouldn't have left him alone through the night either, but she had. She had been afraid that if she touched Athrun Zala at all, it would be to wrap her hands around his throat and strangle him.

Now she paused on the threshold of his bedroom, not knowing whether she would have to dodge a flying missile or not. But when he saw her, instead of hurling the coffee mug he was drinking from, he merely placed it on the nightstand. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she replied. "Sleep well?"

"Around three this morning I had some cramps."

"I'm sorry. You should have called me."

HE shrugged. "I used the trapeze to change position. They went away."

"Were they bad?"

"Like a charley horse."

"In your calves?"

"Mostly the backs of my thighs."

"You should have taken a pain pill."

"I survived without one." He glanced down at the tent that his toes poked in the sheet. Wisely, she opted to remain silent and let him direct the conversation. After a brief silence he looked up and asked, "Why didn't you kick my butt yesterday?"

"When it was covered with decubitus ulcers? You must think I'm a monster."

One corner of his lip tilted up into a rueful smile, but his eyes were anything but jovial. "I've been acting like a real jerk."

"You won't get an argument from me."

"How'd…" he paused to clear his throat. "How'd you know about that rehabilitation center?"

"Dr. La Flagga told me about it. He suggested that when I wasn't needed here, I might think spending some time there. Volunteers are in short supply. They always need more than they've got."

"I've owned this house for years. I never knew that hospital was there," he said as he absently turned his eyes toward the window."

Cagalli detected a bad case of melancholia coming on. Taking him to the rehab center had gotten her point across, but she didn't want to overshoot her mark. The last thing he needed to be was depressed.

"That was a pretty rotten surprise I pulled on you yesterday," she told him. "So if you'll forgive me that, I'll forgive you for acting like a jerk, okay? Besides, of you hadn't acted like a jerk I would have thought you were abnormal. All patients, particularly young, athletic men, go through that jerky stage first."

"Because they're afraid they'll never get laid again."

"First and foremost," she said, laughing.

"Fairly strong basis for concern, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes," she answered hesitantly, "but you don't have to worry about that today. Today you have to worry about getting into the wheelchair by yourself."

"It'll never work," he said, shaking his head dejectedly. "I'll never be able to do that."

"Sure you will. You'll be zipping around here in no time. Luckily the builder of this house thought to install an elevator."

"How did you know about that anyway? The elevator is supposed to be a secret. Did Pete tell you?"

"No, I discovered it while I was snooping around."

"What else did you discover?"

"Your stock of brandy and your collection of porno flicks."

"Drink any brandy?"

"An inch or two."

"Good?"

"Delicious."

"Watch any flicks?"

"Repugnant, revolting, and repulsive."

"That's redundant."

"But arresting and articulate alliteration."

Wincing, ho booed her. "How many movies did you watch before deciding they were revolting, repulsive, and so on?"

"Four." He laughed. Defensively she said, "Well, I had to pass the time somehow. I couldn't sleep last night."

"Why?"

"Because I knew my patient was going to distract me this morning to keep from working on getting himself out of bed. I was trying to devise a means of avoiding that."

"Have any luck?"

"Obviously not."

They laughed together, and it came as a surprise to each of them what a good time they were having with the verbal sparring.

Cagalli drew herself up to a more professional posture. "Guess I'll just have to be a slave driver." He groaned. "Come on now, sit up as far as you can."

"Even when I'm in a wheelchair, I won't be able to go anywhere."

"Pete's downstairs with a carpenter now. He's installing temporary ramps over the door facings. You'll be able to move through the entire house."

"Whoopee," he said drolly.

"Do you want to do this or not?" facing him with her hands on her hips, the beer advertisement on her T-shirt was stretched tight across her breasts.

Athrun was quick to appreciate the view. "I love it when you get rowdy."

"This is nothing. You ought to see me when I get hot."

His eyes widened marginally with surprise, then narrowed a degree as he said softly, "I'd like that."

"You certainly would," she cooed, giving him a promising smile, which she hastily reversed. "But not today."

"Then you should be more careful."

"Careful?"

"I can see the outline of your nipples."

Caggalli's stomach did a series of flip-flops, but she tried to appear unaffected. "Would looking at them help get you out of bed?"

"It might. Let's give it a try."

He reached for the hem of her T-shirt. She swatted his hands aside. "Sorry, that's not on this morning's agenda."

The men who flirted with Cagalli ranged from construction workers on the city streets to surgeons in the corridors of the hospital. No shrinking violets, she could hold her own with any of them. She rarely got flustered. This time she came close.

Male patients often used vulgarity just to get a shocked reaction out of the women on the hospital staff. Like children, they wanted to see how far they could go before being reprimanded.

But Athrun didn't look like a child. He didn't sound like a child. He didn't even have the mischievous gleam in his eye that most patients did when trying to goad her. He looked and sounded deadly serious. For a forbidden instant Cagalli was tempted to tale his hand and draw it to her breast. She had to shake her blonde head in order to clear it of the tempting thought.

"Can we get down to business now?" she asked authoritatively.

"Sure."

His grin told her his mind was still on pleasure, not business, but she would soon fix that. "How are your biceps?"

"They're fine. Why?"

"Enjoy them. By this time tomorrow night they'll be sore. You'll have support on them to fit yourself off the edge of the bed and into the chair."

He nodded brusquely. "Got it."

"Wait a minute, Athrun." Laughing, she placed her hands on his shoulders and eased him back against the pillows. "There's a technique to this."

"So show me," he demanded in the imperious tone of voice that had galvanized hotel managers into action and reduced sloppy chambermaids to tears.

It took almost half an hour to get him into the chair. By the end of it they were both exhausted and their breathing was labored. "I'm not sure it's worth the effort." He looked up at her. A lock of hair had fallen over his perspiring brow.

Reflexively Cagalli reached toward him and brushed it back into place. "It will be, I promise. This is just the first time. Remembering the first time you tried to snow ski? Bet you said, 'I'm not sure it's worth the effort.'"

He nodded with chagrin. "I think I was into the third day of instruction before I stopped saying that. The only sport that was worth the effort the first time I did it was sex."

"Has sex always been a sport to you?"

He glanced up at her over his shoulder. "Sure. Isn't that what it is to you?"

"Sure." Their gaze locked. It was a long time before Cagalli said, "Hey, as long as you're in that thing, want to go for a ride?"

"Okay." He settled back against the seat. When she made no move to propel him forward, he looked up at her expectantly. "Well?"

"If you think I'm going to spend my spare time chauffeuring you around, Zala, you've got another think coming."

"For a thousand bucks a day you should be willing to sprout wings and fly if I tell you to."

"You ckecked?"

"Damn right."

She was pleased that he had taken enough interest in his business affairs to call the mainland and check on her fee. But she frowned down at him as though perturbed. "I'm a free agent, not one of your flunkies whose only aim in life is to make the big, bad boss happy." Stubbornly, she folded her arms over her middle.

When it became obvious that she wasn't going to relent, he growled, "How do you run this damn thing?"

"Thought you'd never ask," she said cheerfully.

They practiced on the gallery. Soon he was accustomed to operating the wheelchair by himself. "This isn't so bad," he said with a broad smile. "I've seen guys, you know, who _run_ marathons in wheelchairs, popping wheelies in these things."

"Please, don't try that yet. Give it a day or two at least," she said teasingly. "Kira does wheelies on his motorcycle sometimes. The kids love it. Lacus goes berserk."

"Kira has a bike?"

"Goes against type, doesn't it?"

"He's a great guy."

"Yes he is. I'm so glad he found Lacus. Or vice versa."

"They seem to be very happy together."

"They're positively gaga and goo-goo. It gets disgustingly sometimes. But that's what Lacus wants and needs too, someone to love, someone who loves her devotedly. Kira was a perfect choice." She gave Athrun a sidelong glance. "Better than you."

"_Me?_"

"I heard you and her were once engage."

"That was a long time ago. I knew what she wanted and needed. I also knew I wasn't it."

"A husband, and a father to the future kids. That scene isn't for you, huh?"

"No more that it is for you."

"Love and sex are recreational."

"Right," he answered shortly, then gave her a long steady gaze. "Right?"

"Oh, right. Absolutely. Well, here we are," she said as she took over control of the chair and guided it to a halt beside his bed. "Now, to get you back into bed we simply reverse the procedure."

He groaned loudly. "You mean we gotta go through that _again_?"

**OOo**

I'm sorry it took me so long to post this chapter. I have so many things to do now that summer is finally near and I have to watch out for my grades. Anyway, ^-^…I do hope you forgive me for not updating sooner. I'll try to update the other chapts sooner, I guess. Until then… R&R…^-^

P.S. I might change the rating for this fict…you know with all the lemons going on here and about and maybe in near future chapt. ^-^'


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I never own GS so on and forth…

**AN:** Aaaah XDD…it's been sooo long I don't know how long. I got stranded in an isolated place called the writers block XDD, it really took me a long time to get out of that place. Anyway, here it is and I'm really sure am going to finish it… XD

**P.S.:** I already change the rating because of the following smuts that might appear on this chapter and the following… XDD

**Athrun's Fall**

Chapter Six

**OOo**

They still fought like cats and dogs, but their relationship drastically improved.

He still cursed her and accused her of being a heartless bitch who, out of pure meanness, pushed him beyond his threshold of pain and endurance.

She still cursed him and accused him of being a gutless rich kid who, for the first time in his charmed life, was experiencing hardship.

He said she couldn't handle patients worth a damn.

She said he couldn't handle adversity worth a damn.

He said she taunted him unmercifully.

She said he whined incessantly.

And so it went. But things were definitely better.

He came to trust her just a little. He began to listen when she told him that he wasn't trying hard enough and should put more concentration into it. And he listened when she advised that he was trying too hard and needed to rest awhile.

"Didn't I tell you so?" she was standing at the front of his bed, giving therapy to his ankle.

"I'm still not ready to tap dance."

"But you've got sensation."

"You stuck a straight pin into my big toe!"

"But you've got sensation." She stopped turning his foot and looked up toward the head of his bed, demanding that he agree.

"I've got sensation." The admission was grumbled, but he couldn't hide his pleased smile.

"In only two and a half weeks." She whistled. "You've come a long way, baby. I'm calling Honolulu today and ordering a set of parallel bars. You'll soon be able to stand between them."

His smile collapse. "I'll never be able to do that."

"That's what you said about the wheelchair. Will you lighten up?"

"Will you?" he grunted with a pain as she bent his knee back toward his chest.

"Not until you're walking."

"If you keep wearing those shorts, I'll soon be running. I'll be chasing you."

"Promises. Promises."

"I thought I told you to dress more modestly."

"This is Hawaii, Zala. Everybody goes casual. Or haven't you heard? I'm going to resist the movement now. Push against my hand. That's it. A little harder. Good."

"Ah, God," he gasped through clenched teeth. He followed her instructions, which took him through a routine to stretch his calf muscle. "The backs of your legs are sunburned," he observed as he put forth even greater effort.

"You noticed?"

"How could I help it? You flash them by me every chance you get. Think those legs of yours are long enough? They must start in your armpits. But how'd I get off on that? What were we talking about?"

"Why my legs were sunburned. Okay, Athrun, let up a but, then try again. Come on now, no ugly faces. One more time." She picked up the asinine conversation in order to keep his mind off his discomfort. "My legs are sunburned because I fell asleep beside the pool yesterday afternoon."

"Is that what you're being paid an exorbitant amount of money to do? To nap beside my swimming pool?"

"Of course not!" after a strategic pause, she added, "I went to swimming too." He gave her a baleful look and pressed his foot against the palm of her hand. "Good, Athrun, good. Once more."

"You said that was the last one."

"I lied."

"You heartless bitch."

"You gutless preppy."

Things were swell.

**OOo**

"Roll over. Come on, spare me the groan. You can do it."

He did, using his arms muscles and those in his hips and thighs that he had gradually regained the used of. He shifted himself from table to wheelchair, then from wheelchair to bed with very little assistance.

"There. That's it for now," she told him once he was reclining against the pillows. "Need anything before I go?"

"Yeah. There _is_ something I could use." Smiling guilelessly, he told her.

In spite of her own pungent vocabulary and ribald wit, she blushed. "I don't do that."

"Ever?"

"Not to patients."

"You offered by saying 'anything.'"

"I had in mind fetching you some fruit juice, a magazine, the TV remote control."

"In that case, no thanks."

"Okay, see you later." She turned to go.

"What's your hurry? Where are you going?"

"Shopping."

"What for?"

"I need some things."

"What things?"

"Personal things."

"Like what?"

"How indicate! Now, good-bye. The afternoon is getting away."

"Are you taking the van?"

"My rental car."

"Take the van. I'll ride along with you."

Cagalli shook her head. "I've got several stops to make. You'd get tired before I was ready to come back."

"No, I wouldn't."

"Yes, you would. Besides, when I finish running errands, I thought I'd spend an hour or two helping out at the rehab center."

"What about me?"

"What about you?"

"How long will you be gone?"

"I don't know, Athrun," she said with mounting exasperation. "What difference does it make?"

"I'll tell you what difference it makes," he said angrily. "I'm paying you a thousand bucks a day to take care of me."

"But I get time off for good behavior, don't I?"

"When has your behavior been good?"

"I'm leaving," she said in a singsong voice.

"You can't," he called after her. "I might need you here."

"Pete will be here if you need anything. See ya."

"Cagalli?"

"_What?_" she turned back toward the bed again. Her expression was indulgent, but impatient.

"Don't rush off." He had switched tactics. No longer angry, he was wheedling. "Pete's available, but he doesn't sit down and talk to me."

"You and I have been talking all morning. I've run out of things to say."

"We'll play Trivial Pursuit."

"We always fight when we play."

"We'll play poker."

"No fair. You always win."

"Strip poker?"

"No fair. I'd win. You're already down to your skivvies."

"So strip down your and we'll start even." She gave him a dirty look. Laughing, he relented. "Okay, if strip poker is out, we could watch a movie on the VCR."

"We've watched all of them. Twice."

"Not the skin flicks."

"I pass."

"Not too prudish, are you?"

"Not in the mood."

"They'll put you in the mood, I promise."

She shifted her stance impatiently. "You know what I mean."

He pulled his lower lip through his teeth several times. "Come on, Cagalli, don't run out on me. I'm bored."

"But I'm not a social director. Good-bye, Athrun," she said firmly, and left before he could say anything more.

Had she stayed longer, he might have succeeded in changing her minds. Lately she was staying in his room more than necessary. Each time she left, she found it a little hard to go.

**OOo**

"How's the water?"

"Feels terrific. Want to get in?"

"No, not tonight."

Cagalli emerged from the pool and reached for a beach towel. As she dried off, she was unconscious of Athrun's eyes on her. For that very reason, she usually used the pool when he was upstairs resting.

Tonight, however, he had insisted on sitting outside longer than usual after dinner. The moon was up. It was a gorgeous night. After holding out as long as she could, hoping Athrun would retire to his room, Cagalli had yielded to the pool's temptation, dropped her cover-up, and dived in to swim several laps.

"Any of that mail interesting?" she asked as she rubbed her wet hair with a corner of the towel.

"Not really. Just plentiful I'll never get finished sorting it all, much less answering it."

"Must be tough to be loved by thousands," she remarked tongue-in-cheek. "What do the piles represent?"

He had formed three hills of correspondence on the patio table in front of him. "The good, the bad, and the ugly," he said, enumerating each pile.

Cagalli leaned out of her chaise to dug into the "ugly" pile, coming up with an envelope. She held it up closer to the flaming torch that was burning from the metal pole cemented in the flower bed behind her. "Kira and Lacus Yamato," she said, reading the return address on the envelope.

"Oops, they got in the wrong pile."

"I don't think you're paying much attention to that sorting method of your." Uncaring that the letter had been addressed to him, she worked her fingers into the slit of the envelope.

"I wasn't paying attention. I was watching you swim." Cagalli's finger stuck. She looked up at Athrun. "Why don't you skinny-dip?"

"Why don't you behave?" she asked, slightly breathless.

"It would be a helluva night."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." They stared at each other for a long moment. Finally breaking the gaze, Athrun nodded at the forgotten envelope in her hand. "What do they have to say?"

She ripped open the envelope and took out the letter. Her eyes scanned it, though after that brief but potent exchange with Athrun, it took awhile for her brother's and Lacus' words to sink in.

"They hope you're doing well and that I'm not causing you too much grief." He grunted with amusement. "He failed to ask how I'm doing. Thanks a lot, Kira," Cagalli muttered. "It says here that Megan got upset when her softball team lost in the city playoffs."

"Poor girl. How's Kirio?"

"Uh-oh. He had to spend an entire day in his room for teaching his best friend a nasty word."

"He must have picked it up from his Aunt Cagalli,"

She threw her wet towel at Athrun's head. "Kirio's my buddy. He thinks I'm terrific."

"How is Lacus feeling?"

Cagalli read on. "She says she feels great. Kira is her main pain. 'He's acting more absurd as my due date draws closer.' Oh, my gosh, listen to this. He bought new tires for both their cars on the outside chance they'd have a flat on the way to the hospital." Cagalli made a scoffing sound.

"He's gone bonkers over this kid too."

Athrun laughed, but his voice sounded reflective when he said, "Must be nice though."

"What?" Cagalli asked, replacing the letter in the envelope.

"Knowing you'd created another human life." When he turned his head and looked at her, his eyes caught the wavering torchlight.

"Oh, that. Well, I guess it is a nice feeling. If you're into that."

"Yeah, if you're into that."

They were silent for a moment. Cagalli spoke first. "About these letters, can I help? I wouldn't mind forging a few cursory responses for you. Something to the effect of, "Thanks for your concern, period. Sincerely, comma. Athrun Zala."

"I've got offices of people who can do that. I'll have Pete box them all up and send them to the corporate headquarters."

"Even the personal notes?" she was indirectly referring to the sores of letters he had received from Meer. They had been set aside and read but as far as she knew, had gone unanswered.

"I guess I should attend to those, it's just—" he sighed deeply. "I feel detached. You know?" he looked at her for confirmation. She nodded her head, even though she wasn't sure what he was leading up to.

"I missed the gala grand opening of the Hotel in Zurich last week. Ordinarily I would have been there, running the show, finalizing details, checking this and that, personally making sure that everything went well ad according to schedule. But"—he paused and made a negligent gesture—"I don't really think I missed much."

"You've got more on your mind. There's much more at stake now than the opening of a new hotel. The accident changed your perspective on things. You've got a different set of priorities."

"I guess that's it. Or maybe I'm just tired. Since my father died and I launched out on my own, I've been driven to have more, make more, do more."

"Overachiever."

"Yes."

Cagalli knew his story through Lacus. Athrun had inherited a motel from his father. He had sold them as soon as the will was probated. With the profit he had built a first-class hotel that had enjoyed immediate success. That first hotel had grown into a chain of eighteen. No matter where in the world it was located, a Hotel Zala stood for excellence in quality and service.

Athrun had had a head start, granted, inheriting sizable legacies from both his parents, but it could be said truthfully that he was a self-made millionaire.

"I was bored with my life even before my accident," he admitted to Cagalli now. "That sounds insensitive, doesn't it?"

"A little," she told him with a soft smile. "You're to be envied for all you have."

"You had reached all your goals and had run out of challenges. That's why you invented them, like climbing that mountain."

He turned introspective. "It seems a lifetime ago when Nicole and I planned that climb. It's hard for me to envision myself involved in things like that again. I've been invited to spend a month next spring with friends on a yacht in the Mediterranean. I never take that long vacation from work, but even if I did, the prospect doesn't sound appealing. I feel so distant from it all—the beautiful people, fast car, rich food, fancy boats. The hotels. The women." He turned his head and fixed a hard stare on Cagalli.

She swallowed with difficulty. "That'll pass. You feel detached and distant because you are. Out of necessity your focus had to be on getting back to normal. Once you are, you'll get into the swing again."

"I'm not sure."

"Oh, yes," she said. "That drive to overachiever is in your character. The passion to succeed is in your genes just like your dark eyes. Lacus says your energy is so boundless. She describes you as being constant in motion. That'll come back."

"But I'll never be the same. I don't mean physically," he said when he saw she was about to disagree. "I'll never think the same about life, the human condition."

"No, Athrun, you'll never be the same. At some time in the distant future you might be very glad this happened to you." She left the lounge and moved towards his wheelchair, pulling it away from the table. "Tell you the truth, Athrun," she said in a much lighter tone, "all this philosophy is wearing me down. Why don't we call it a night, huh?"

"I'm not tired."

"Don't argue—Athrun! What are you doing?"

With a strength and agility that amazed her, he reached behind the chair, grabbed her hand, and dragged her around to the front of it. She landed hard in his lap. He encircled her with his arms and clasped his hands together, trapping her.

"What am I doing?" he repeated playfully. "Don't you recognize it? I'm putting the make on you."

His words made her heart flutter, but she looked at him sternly. "You could have hurt yourself. Such impulsiveness could be harmful."

"I'm not acting on impulse. I've been thinking about this for days."

"About what?"

He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. He knew how to kiss; he had no doubt had plenty of practice kissing. His mouth applied a slight suction to hers that sealed them together. His tongue was active but not invasive. It penetrated slowly and deliciously.

Echoing the hungry sounds that vibrated in his throat, Cagalli kissed him back. Then, realizing that she shouldn't be, she angled her head back and away. "No, Athrun."

"Yes." His searching lips found her neck arched and wanting.

"This isn't part of the therapy program."

"It's part of _my_ program." His whisper conveyed the urgency with which he reached around her and unfastened the bra of her bikini. It dropped in her lap. Lowering his head, he rubbed his cheek against her breasts and nuzzled the deep cleavage between them with his nose and lips.

Cagalli made a whimpering sound that could have meant pleasure, regret, or guilt. Or any combination thereof. "Athrun, stop, please. You don't know what you're doing."

"The hell I don't." he took a gentle lovebite out of the soft fullness of her breast, then kissed the spot, pressing his lips into her flesh.

"You just want me because I'm here."

"I just want you."

"Because you're dependent on me."

"Because you're sexy as hell."

"You kissed me before."

"That wasn't a kiss. That was an insult."

"And this follows. It fits right into the pattern. First the fury, then the infatuation. You're mistaking dependency for desire."

"I've never mistaken desire, Cagalli." As they formed the words, his lips tantalizingly brushed her nipple, bringing it to a peak.

She moaned when his tongue began to feather it rapidly. "Don't, don't ."

He didn't give credence to her feeble plea, but drew the stiff crest between his lips and sucked it lightly.

"You're sweet, Cagalli," he murmured while moving his mouth to her other breast. "Do you taste this sweet all over?"

She embedded her fingers in his hair, intending to lift his head away from her. But she couldn't bring herself to. His warm, wet mouth was giving her pleasure, the likes of which she had never felt before. Heat swirled through her breasts, between her thighs, creating an exquisite, feverish ache. "This is wrong, Athrun, a big mistake."

"Then why are you letting me do it?" he raised his head and looked deeply into her troubled eyes.

"I don't know," she answered, her voice tinged with desperation and confusion. "I don't know."

He whisked a kiss across her lips. "Because you want to be kissed as much as I want to kiss you. Don't lie about it. I won't believe you."

As his mouth captured hers again, his hands closed over her breasts. He kneaded them gently while his tongue mated with hers. His thumbs indolently stroked her nipples, which were still damp from his kisses.

Weakly, Cagalli laid her hands on his shoulders. He wasn't wearing a shirt. His skin, which she knew intimately by touch alone, was smooth and warm. She longed to fling her arms around his neck and draw the warmth of his chest against her bare skin, but she resisted the temptation.

His mind was muzzy with passion, but clear enough to realize that she was violating a staunch professional creed without quite knowing how it had come about or at what point she had lost control of the situation. It was imperative that she get it back.

She pushed against his shoulders at the same time she stood up. Her bikini bra fell to the terrace. She bent to retrieve it, then turned he back and replaced it. Before facing him again, she pulled on her beach cover-up and wrapped it around herself until very little skin was visible.

Without a word—and with as much professional detachment as she could muster when her lips were still throbbing from his kiss and her breasts were still tingling with sensations—she stepped behind his chair and pushed it forward. They reached his room and got him from the chair to the bed without speaking. Once he was settled, she garnered enough courage to look him in the eye.

"I'm appalled because of what happened."

She gave a quick, soundless gasp, shut her eyes, and shook her head in denial of the truth. "We'll forget all about it," se said.

"I dare you to even try."

"We'll pretend it never happened."

"Impossible."

"It'll never happen again."

"Like hell."

"If it does, I'll leave."

"Liar."

"Good night."

"Sweet dreams."

She left him and went into her own room. As before, her senses were heightened. The moonlight spilling through the windows resembled molten silver. The priceless area rug felt wonderful beneath her bare feet. She sat down on the very edge of the bed, lowering herself to it carefully, as it were a ledge overlooking a steep canyon.

Sightlessly staring into near space, she raised her hand and exploringly touched her lips. They felt swollen. She ran her tongue across her lower lip. She tasted Athrun.

Her eyes slid closed, and against her stubborn will, she made a yearning sound. She hadn't believed it could ever happen, not for real, not seriously, certainly not to her. She would have felt safe getting anything dear to her that she would never get emotionally involved with a patient. That rule was on page one of the physical therapists' handbook.

Yet here she sat, her emotions jangling, her nerve end sizzling, and there didn't seem to be a thing she couldn't do about it.

Nothing like this had ever happen to her before, oh, she had her share of fanny patters. More than one wandering hand had venture beneath her skirt while she was giving a patient a rubdown. She'd been groped and grabbed by scores of amorous young patients who fancied themselves in love with her because she was intimate with their bodies. She warder off those unsolicited passes, dismissed them as professional hazards, and forgot them almost as soon as they occurred.

This she wouldn't forget. Not soon, if ever. She wanted to deny the incident had happened. Short of that, she wanted to deny its power. But it had happened. And it had been powerful. The evidence of its potency was there. Between her thighs. On her lips. On her breasts.

She unhooked her bra and looked at her breasts. Yes, it had been real, not her imagination. There were the faint scratches left on her skin. The tips of her breasts were still rosy and damp and tender. She dared not touch herself.

When the telephone on the nightstand rang, she jumped as though she'd been shot. Snatching up the receiver, she shouted, "_What?_ I mean, hello. I mean, Zala's Residence."

"Cagalli what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong," she shouted crankily. "You woke me up, that's what's wrong. Do you know what time it is here?"

"No. What time is it?"

"How the hell should I know? It's late, though, isn't that enough?"

"I'm sorry," Kira said contritely. "But at least I'm calling you with good news."

"The baby?" Cagalli asked, suddenly switching moods.

"Lacus said not yet and the doctor says it's still weeks away."

"How is she?"

"She's not saying it but I can say like a blimp other than that, I think she's fine. But still I can't stop myself from worrying over. How's Athrun?"

"He's . . . he's, uh, fine. Fine."

"Stronger?"

Cagalli swallowed, recalling the strength she'd felt pressing against her hips while sitting on his lap. "Uh, yes, definitely stronger."

"The two of you haven't murdered each other yet?"

"Not quite. We've come close."

"That's what I'm calling. We finally found a replacement."

Cagalli went very still. "A replacement?"

There was a slight pause on Kira's end. Then he said, "I do have the right number, don't I? This _is_ my sister, Cagalli Yula Attha, physical therapist to Athrun Zala the hotel magnate, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry, Kira," Cagalli said, rubbing her temple. "I know I'm not making much sense. It's been so long since we talked about somebody's taking over the job, I'd almost forgotten about it."

"Forgotten about it?" Kira repeated in disbelief. "You were so adamant."

"I was . . . am." She was aggravated with herself for not being jubilant over the replacement, but she took it out on Kira. Crossly she asked. "What's taken you so long to find someone else?"

"We asked your supervisor at the hospital for names. She gave us several, and we interviewed all of them, but I couldn't see Athrun with any of those we talked to. But yesterday we interviewed a middle-aged man who comes highly recommended. Lacus and I agree that he'll do well. He's ready, willing, and able to relocate immediately. Tomorrow, if you say so."

"I see."

"You don't sound very keen on the idea."

"Oh, I am, it's just—a middle-aged man, you say?"

"Fiftyish."

"Hmm."

"Cagalli, is something wrong?"

"No, I'm just groggy. You woke me up, remember? It's going to take me awhile to digest this."

It was going to take her awhile to understand why she wasn't doing backward handsprings over the prospect of leaving Athrun Zala's house as soon as tomorrow.

One, Athrun and she were just becoming accustomed to each other.

Two, Athrun and she were making tremendous strides towards his full recovery.

Three, Adam and she had just been necking in his wheelchair.

Cagalli tried honestly to peg which of the above reasons made her most reluctant to leave him now. True, she wanted to see him through the finish. She wanted to be the one he walked to for the first time. She wanted to experience and share in his victory over this temporary paralysis. She wanted to kiss him again.

But that wasn't going to happen.

She wouldn't let it happen. Athrun's reasons for kissing her were straight out of the textbook. _Her _reasons for kissing _Athrun_ were too absurd to be believed. So for both those reasons she would mark down tonight as a lapse in common sense and see that nothing like it ever happened again.

That being the case, it would be stupid to sacrifice all the progress they had made to one little indiscretion. Having to adjust to another therapist might cause Athrun a severe setback. Would that be good for the patient? No. shouldn't her decision be based on what was best for the patient? Yes.

"I don't want a replacement."

"What?" Cagalli repeated her statement, more firmly the second time. "Do you realize the time and trouble Lacus and I have gone to, to find one?"

"I know, and I apologize."

"You could have let us know that you'd change your mind."

"I didn't realize it until this second. Really, Kira, I'm sorry. Apologize to Lacus too."

Kira sighed with weariness. "That's okay. All those interviews made the time waiting for the baby go faster. Anyway, our hearts weren't in it. Lacus and I have always thought you were the best choice. We're both glad Athrun is in your capable hands."

Athrun's hands were capable, too, Cagalli thought. Just thinking about his stimulating caresses made her palms damp. "Well, if that's all, Kira, I'm going back to bed."

"You're sure you're all right? You still sound funny."

"I'm fine. Give the kids hugs for me. Kiss my good-looking sister-in-law. Bye." She hung up quickly and jerked her hand away from the phone as though it could accuse her of duplicity and manipulation.

But she couldn't as easily escape her conscience. As she pulled back the covers of the bed and slid between them, she congratulated herself on doing something so supremely noble as staying on till the bitter end.

But secretly she knew that her motives were selfish. At least in part.

**OOOo**

**AN:** Finally, after all these time, I finally finished another chapter! Banzai! Please look forward for the next one, but it might take me a long time to finish it. Again, thank you for the support.


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **I think this is kinda getting old, but, oh well, to all, i'm sad to say I never own GS or GSD…there XDD

**AN:** Wohoo! The seventh chapter! Now the climax is close at hand XDD…anyway, here it is

**Athrun's Fall**

Chapter Seven

**OOOOoo**

"Do you always sleep naked?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you always sleep naked?"

Cagalli stretched languorously between the sating sheets. She yawned broadly. Her eyes come open slowly. To a point. Then they popped wide open.

"_Athrun?"_

"You remember my name. I'm flattered."

Cagalli pushed the tousled hair away from her face, clutched a handful of satin to her breasts, and propped herself up on one elbow. "What are you doing in my room? How'd you get here?"

"You haven't answered my question yet."

"What question?"

"Do you always sleep—"

"Yes! Now tell me what possessed Pete to let you come in here."

"Pete doesn't know I'm here. I did it all by myself."

Amazed, Cagalli peered over the edge of the bed. Athrun was sitting in his wheelchair. "You got out of your bed and into the chair all by yourself?"

"Proud of me?"

"I certainly am." She flashed him a brilliant smile, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. "That doesn't answer my question, though. What are you doing in my room?"

"Invading your privacy."

"Exactly. Would you please leave?" something else suddenly occurred to her. "How did you know I was naked?"

"I looked under the covers." She gaped at him with disbelief, and he started laughing. "Actually, your bikini is lying on the floor, and I don't see any nightgown straps over your shoulders."

"I brought you something." She had noticed the flowers, but they hadn't truly registered with her until now, when he slipped the pastel plumeria lei over her head and arranged it to his satisfaction around her neck. "Welcome to Hawaii, Cagalli."

"You're several weeks late, aren't you?"

"What are you, a stickler for detail?"

Cagalli looked down at the fragile, fragrant petals and touched them reverently. They were dewy and cool against her skin. "Thank you, Athrun. It's beautiful."

"You know what goes with a lei, don't you?" she glanced up quickly. Athrun's eyes were twinkling. "Ah, I can see that you do."

"We'll dispense with that part of the tradition."

"That part is the reason the tradition has lasted this long. Besides, I never break with tradition."

Cupping the back of her head in his palm, he drew her forward and kissed her leisurely and expertly. "That's not the way it's done," she said when he lifted his lips off hers. "It's supposed to be a peck on both cheeks, isn't it?"

"Usually."

"I thought you never broke with tradition."

"Unless your mouth and my tongue are involved."

He kissed her again before she had the wherewithal to stave him off. Finally she mustered enough willpower to say, "Go away! I've got to get up and dress."

His eyes lowered to the sheet, which was doing a poor job of concealing the full shape of her breasts. "I think you look great the way you are. So please, don't dress on my account."

"Specifically on your account. It took a lot of stamina and strength for you to get out of bed alone. We need to maximize that momentum."

"I have a better idea. Let's take the day off and celebrate my progress."

"By doing what?"

He ran his thumb over her lips. "By staying in bed." Then he raised his compelling eyes up to hers. "One bed. This bed. It's for damn sure we would maximize my momentum."

For a moment Cagalli was captivated by his husky voice and enticing suggestion. Too soon, reason returned. Cantankerously she said, "Don't be ridiculous. Besides, you don't get a day off. Consequently neither do I."

He took her refusal good-naturedly and pushed his chair away from her bed. "It ain't gonna wash, Cagalli."

"What?"

"Pretending that last night didn't happen. But I'm hungry for my breakfast, so for the time being I'll retreat." He spun his chair around and headed for the door. When he reached it, he glanced at her over his shoulder. "And I _did_ look under the covers."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're bluffing, Zala."

"Oh, yeah? Love that sexy little mole just inside your bikini line," he drawled.

Before she could stammer a reply, he wheeled out. Cagalli threw off the sheet and flitted across the room. She slammed the door closed and locked it, making sure both were heard. Then she stamped into the bathroom and turned on the faucets in the shower.

Athrun was making a big joke out of her attitude toward last night. He thought she was being coy and wasn't taking her seriously. Last night might have appeased their libidos, but it had cost valuable ground as far as getting him to walk again. That, not romance, should be his driving force. It was critical that she reestablish herself as his therapist, not his paramour. Desperate measures were called for.

When she entered his room an hour later, he was shooting a Nerf basketball into the net he'd had Pete attach to the wall. "Twenty-seven straight free throws," he boasted.

Cagalli walked in as stiff as a starched shirt and yanked the basketball out of his hand. "That's enough play for now. You can do that on your own time. For the next hour and a half, we're on my time." She went to the stereo system and switched it off. Whitney Houston's voice was arrested in mid-chorus.

"What's with you?" Athrun asked. "Get your period?"

Cagalli rounded on him. "That wouldn't be any of your business, now would it, Mr. Zala?"

"Or does your foul mood stem from sexual deprivation?"

"You can't. Not any better than you can ignore last night. Where's the lei I gave you?"

"In the refrigerator in my room."

"Why not around your neck?"

"Be reasonable. I can't wear it while we're working."

"Then when?"

"I don't know."

"Dinner tonight?"

It was time to drive the point home. "Look, Athrun. It occurs to me that we've been together too much lately. A therapist should b a taskmaster, sometimes a confidante, but never a . . . a . . . "

"Lover."

"That wasn't what I was going to say."

"Oh no?"

By any act of will she contained her temper. "We can't be such good pals, Athrun."

"I've never French-kissed a pal."

"Right. We're way beyond the sweetheart stage. In fact, we're way beyond foreplay. We're ready for the real thing."

His provocative words elicited delicious little shudders inside her. Trying to ignore and deny them, she cleared her throat and said sternly, "If this goes any further, you'll lose respect for my authority. I'm asking you one last time to cease and desist making these juvenile sexual overtures. Today marks a new beginning. It's going to get tough from here."

During her speech his face had grown increasingly dark. Her temper had been close to blowing, but an eruption of his appeared imminent. By the time she finished, his fists were softly thumping the armrests of his wheelchair. "Tougher than it's been? What could be tougher than having you nag me hour after hour, forcing me to do things I can't do?"

"It's not suppose to be easy."

"Well, good!" he yelled. "Because it sure as hell isn't"

"Enough of your whining. Let's get started," she said peremtorarily.

The morning therapy session was a disaster. She worked him through a series of exercises intended to tone the muscles that were now facile. The effort he put forth was halfhearted at best. Then when she reprimanded him for his sloth, he pushed himself too hard and ended up with a cramp she had to message out while he cursed her along with his pain. She consigned him to bed to rest, moving his wheelchair out of arm's reach, which won her even more epithets.

Of late she had loitered in his room between sessions. They watched game shows and soap operas on TV, listened to music, played board games and cards, or simply talked. Today she avoided his room until time for the afternoon session.

It went worse than the morning's. her nerves began unraveling from the moment she went in and he said, "Don't _ever_ keep my chair away from me again," until they finally became completely frazzled when he flatly refused to complete a knee exercise by saying, "I'm not going to do it anymore."

"Fine!" she withdrew her support of his leg. It landed with a thud on the mat. "As long as you feel that way about it, I think I'll take you up on that day off you referred to this morning. You reminded me that I haven't had one since I got here."

An hour later she left her bedroom suite trailing the scent of perfume in her wake. She was wearing a strapless red cotton dress that showed off her tanned shoulders and cleavage. The wrap-around skirt was narrow the overlap formed a slit that widened to display long, shapely thighs with each step she took in strappy high heels. One side of her hair was pulled behind her ear was pulled behind her ear and secured there with a large, sparkly barrette. The plumeria lei was around her neck.

When she walked into the kitchen, she dazzled both men. "Don't wait up for me, Pete. It'll probably be very late before I get back."

Athrun was sitting at the table in his wheelchair, eating the cold supper Pete had prepared. She ignored him as though he weren't there. She gave the butler a gay little wave and backed out the door.

As she drove down the curving mountain road, she wondered if she had laid it on too thick.

No. Athrun hadn't taken her seriously when she had told him that there could be no recurrence of last night's kiss. If she was going to succeed in getting him to walk, he must continue to think of her as his therapist and nothing more. Slave driver, yes. Cheerleader and coach, yes. But he mustn't look upon her as a playmate and love object.

Mild flirtations were fine. They served to boost his confidence and ego. Naughty bantering kept the mood light and lively. But not by any stretch of the definition did last night resemble mild flirtation.

She ate dinner alone at an elegant Oriental restaurant, ordering courses she didn't want to drag out the meal as long as possible. She warded off the attentions of two sailors who accosted her on the street, offering her money and a night of seriously doubtful ecstasy. Purchasing two tickets at a multiscreen movie theater, she watched first one film, then moved to the next. The first was mediocre, the second nearly put her to sleep.

Having wasted sufficient time, she drove home. Quietly she let herself into the house. Standing just inside the front door, she slipped off her sandals and headed for the stairs.

Athrun's wheelchair shot out of the living room and nearly collided with her. She let out a squeak of fright. "Watch that damn thing, will you?" she snapped. "You nearly ran over my foot."

"Have a good time?"

"I had a blast."

"Where'd you go?"

"To Lahaina."

"Lahaina! You drove all the way to Lahaina by yourself?"

"I've been driving myself since the day I turned sixteen, Athrun. Most places I go, I drive myself."

"Don't get smart."

"And don't get possessive. Yes, I went to Lahaina because I'd never been there. It's a nice place to visit, etcetera. I saw some charming sights, ate a wonderful dinner, and had a lot of fun. It was just the kind of diversion I needed. But it exhausted me, so I'm going to bed. Good night."

"Just wait a minute. Where'd you go?"

"I told you."

"I mean, where'd you have this 'lot of fun'?"

"I don't remember." She would be damned before she'd tell him she had spent the evening alone in a movie theater.

"Is your memory clouded by drink and drugs?"

"Now who's being smart? I don't remember the name of the place. What difference does it make? It had a thatched roof, I think." She searched her memory for the name of club she had passed on the outskirts of the tourist town. "Shack something, I think."

"_The Sugar Shack!_ You went into the Sugar Shack by yourself?"

"Same song, second verse."

"That's the main pickup joint in the island. You can get everything from cocaine to venereal disease in that place."

"Is this the voice of experience speaking?"

His eyes shot daggers at her through the darkness. "But you would fit right into the crowd, wouldn't you? You even dressed the part of a pickup. You blended right into the dare-anything, do-everything, what-the-hell crowd."

She tilted her head to one side and said cockily, "Let's put it this way, Daddy. I had some kicks, but I didn't meet anybody I could have a lasting relationship with."

"Did you get laid?"

Cagalli went hot all over, first with embarrassment, then with rage. She was too angry to speak, so Athrun use the opportunity to rub salt into the wound he'd just inflicted.

"That's what you went out for, isn't it?" he reached up and flattened his hand against her lover body. "To let some other guy put out the hot fire I stroked here last night?"

Glaring down at him, she stepped out of his reach. She removed the lei and threw it into his lap. Only then did she notice the highball glass in his hand. "You're drunk. Therefore, I'm going to ignore your cross-examination and your insults. But just for the record book, if I had gone out to get laid, as you so coarsely put it, that would be no concern of yours." she took one final dig at him from the top of the stairs. "Lord have mercy on you tomorrow if you've got a hangover."

**OOOOoo**

The Lord had no mercy.

The following morning when Cagalli entered Athrun's room, he was propped up against the pillow of his bed wearing a green cast to his skin and a death-wish facial expression.

"No basketball this morning?" she asked in a high, piping voice. "No Whitney Houston?" Athrun gave her a dangerous look form beneath his shelf of drawn dark brows. She executed and awkward but enthusiastic pirouette and said, "I feel great! It's a positively beautiful morning. Did you have Pete's special omelet cooked in ham drippings?" Athrun groaned. "It was delicious. Very cheesy. It fairly oozed when I—"

"Shut up, Cagalli," he threatened between his teeth.

"Oh, what's wrong?" she pooched out her lips. "Does Athrun has a tummy ache?"

"Get the hell out of here and leave me alone."

Laughing, she said, "I warned you. Don't blame me for your condition. What was it, gin? Vodka? Scotch? Brandy?" he moaned in misery and clutched his stomach. "The brandy, huh? Pretty expensive drinking binge. But then you can afford it, can't you, King Midas?"

"I'm going to murder you."

"You've got to catch me first, Zala. And you'll never do that by lying your butt. Come on, get up, let's get started." She took his hand and tried to pull him up. He stayed glued to the pillow. "Come on, all joking aside. It's time to get started."

"I'm not moving from this spot."

Placing her hands on her hips, she gazed down at him in disgust. "Would an aspirin or two help?"

"No. Dying might."

"As far as I know, nobody has ever died of a hangover, though there have been millions of prayers to that effect I'm sure." Her voice was still brimming with good cheer. "You say another one while I get the aspirin . . . just in case God turns deaf ear and lets you live."

She went to the bathroom and returned in under a minute carrying three aspirin tablets in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Here you go."

"I don't want any damn aspirin."

"You'll feel much better during your workout if you take them."

"I'm not doing any exercises this morning either. I feel like crap."

"And whose fault is that?" her patience had run out. By this time her voice had developed a serrated cutting edge. "Now stop behaving like a baby and take the aspirin."

She opened his hand and dropped the tablets into his palm. He hurled them across the room. They landed on the floor with tiny pings that might just as well have been bombs landing and exploding. Cagalli's temper snapped. She tossed the full glass of cold water into his lap.

That got him off the pillow. He bounced up, gasping in surprise, cursing lividly, and staring down incredulously at the puddle of water forming in the V of his thighs. Before he could overcome his astonishment and fury the doorbell pealed through the house.

Pete had gone into the nearest town to do the marketing, so Cagalli had to answer the door. Giving Athrun one last glare, she left the room and logged down the stairs. She pulled the wide doors open. It would have been difficult to say which woman was more surprise to see the other.

The caller regained her voice first and asked Cagalli, "Who are you?"

"We don't want any."

"Any what?"

"Whatever it is you're peddling, Lady."

The dark hair drew herself up to her full height. The skin over her face's classic bone structure smoothed out until there wasn't a single line or wrinkle in evidence. Icily she said, "I asked you a question, young woman."

"Now I'm asking. Who are you?"

But Cagalli already knew. The pieces of luggage surrounding the woman cost more than Cagalli's compact car. Her clothes didn't need any visible tags to label them expensive. She had white skin, blue eyes, black hair, and red lips, result from too much application of lipsticks.

"It's freaking Snow White," Cagali muttered.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing. Come on in."

Cagalli stood aside and let the woman step into the foyer. She was careful not to let her skirt brush against Cagalli's bare legs, a snub that Cagalli found amusing.

"Where's Pete?" she asked.

So she'd been here before. "Grocery shopping."

"Where's Athrun?"

"Upstairs in his room."

"And for the final time, who are you?"

"Cagalli Yula Attha."

"Meer von Campbell." Cagalli failed to respond. Obviously she was expected to drop to her knees and genuflect. She only stared back at the woman, unimpressed and giving no ground. "What are you doing here, Miss Attha?"

Cagalli lowered her eyelids in a slow, suggestive wink. "Wouldn't you just love to know?" she took a perverse pleasure in watching those facial muscles tighten up again. "Relax, Meer. I'm Athrun's physical therapist."

The woman's chilly blue eyes over Cagalli, taking in her bare feet, skimpy gym short, and sleeveless tight T-shirt—which promoted a rock radio station. "I want to see Athrun. Immediately." She stressed.

"Shall I lead the way?" Cagalli asked sweetly.

"I know the way."

"I figured as much." She swept her arm wide to indicate the staircase.

Meer shouldered her Louis Vuitton handbag and started up the stairs. Just as she reached the top, Cagalli called up to her form below, "Oh, maybe I should warn you. He just had an accident in his bed." She shrugged, bringing her shoulders up level with her earlobes. "Hey, it happens."

**OOOOOOooooooo**

**AN:** Finally! ~sigh~ there might be some questions…yes, I used _Meer's_ original image, but I forgot how she look, I just remember she had black hair and then I just use the Lacus blue eyes and rest follows. The _von_ thingy on the center of her name just came into my mind while I was watching some aristocratic blah movie, and almost all of the characters have this _von_ before their last name like some royal title or something. So since _Meer_ is acting the part like it I just thought she could have the name for it too, you know words and all, yeah blah. Anyway, I hope you like it and still hoping for the next chapters. ^-^…I really like to receive some more reviews, it keeps me going and smiling ^-^… thank you and please R&R.

**OOO**


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** Hmm…I wanted to came up with something interesting for this but I can't think of other things so I guess it's back to zero…sooo…GS/D is not mine…~sigh~ I'm getting really tired of this…

**AN:** Sadly, the curtains are getting close…I hope you had fun reading this.

**Athrun's Fall**

Chapter Eight

**OOOOoo**

"Not good for boss," Pete pronounced philosophically, shaking his head. "She say, 'Crean up this.' Wadder all over boss. I crean. Change bed. She say, 'Now wreave.' I go. Not good for boss."

"Will you stop carrying on?" Cagalli plucked a snow pea out of the salad he was making and munched on it.

"You don't have to expound on Miss von Campbell's personality flaws on me. She must be a descendant of Hitler's." Pete went into his knee-slapping routine that meant he found something hysterically funny. "It wasn't intended as a joke. I'm dead serious."

Cagalli had known the instant she opened the door to Meer that her arrival boded ill for all of them. Maybe she was unfair in her judgment, but she didn't think so. The woman had been under the roof only a few hours and had already caused discord.

After Pete had carried the wet sheets downstairs and Cagalli had waited long enough for Athrun and Meer to have a tender reunion, she knocked on his bedroom door. It was Meer who called out, "Come in."

For the firs time since Cagalli's arrival, Athrun's suite resembled a sickroom. The shutters on the window had been drawn together and closed, blocking out the scenery and all but the most tenacious slits of sunlight. Instead of the rock music that he and Cagalli preferred to have blaring, chamber music was weakly wafting from the stereo speakers. The funky poster she had bought him on her shopping expedition and placed on the wall opposite his bed had been taken down. The atmosphere was funereal.

"I'd better get a Seeing Eye dog if I'm going to find my patient in all this gloom," she quipped as she made her way towards the bed. "What the hell's wrong with you?" having reached the side of his bed, she saw that Athrun was reclining against his pillows with an ice bag sitting on his forehead.

"Athrun's not feeling well." Meer materialized out of the shadows like a phantom.

"That's to be expected. He got stinking drunk last night. He's got a hangover, which a Bloody Mary and several aspirin would fix right up."

"I don't believe he should be given medication until we've checked with his physicians."

"Medication! I'm talking about three measly aspirin."

"Cagalli, please." Athrun groaned. "Lower your voice to a shrill at least."

She leaned over him. "Would you kindly tell me what's going down here? It's time for your session and you're playing a deathbed scene."

He covered his face with his hands and closed his fingers around his head. "Oh, God, my head is coming off."

"Too bad, Zala. It's time for your exercises."

Meer wedge herself between Cagalli and the bed. "Surely you don't expect a man in pain to go through therapy."

"For your information, Miss von whatever, most of my patients are in pain. I help relieve their pain. At least in a long run I do. Now would you please excuse my patient and me. We've got work to do."

"Obviously you've had limited experience in your chosen field and are overzealous in carrying out your responsibilities."

Cagalli gritted her teeth. "I'm a professional who has had vast experience, both with patients and with getting around their meddlesome friends and relatives and _lover_ who might mean well, but who don't know what the hell they're talking about when it comes to physical therapy."

"You boast of being a professional, but your attire and conduct might make one wonder, wouldn't it?"

"And one might find oneself getting packed off to the nearest motel if one doesn't haul one's elegant as out of my way. Athrun," Cagalli snapped, "tell her to get lost until after your session."

Wearily he removed the ice bag from his forehead. He gazed back and forth between the women, but his eyes finally lighted on Cagalli. "I really don't feel well, Cagalli. Couldn't we skip it until after lunch?"

Blood surged through her veins in proportion to her mounting anger. She gave him a look of undiluted contempt, ignored Meer's smug expression, and stormed out, rattling every pane of glass in the house when she slammed the door behind her.

"Now, sitting in the kitchen waiting for noontime to roll around, she still shook with rage every time he replayed the scene in her head. Pete had to repeat what he'd said several times before he roused her. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Runch ready"

"Good. I'll go call them."

"That won't be necessary, Miss Attha," Meer said from the door way. "I've come down for a tray. Athrun prefers to eat in his room."

"Well, what Athrun prefers and what Athrun is going to do are two different things," Cagalli said tightly as she came to her feet and faced the other woman. "He's been eating his meals downstairs for weeks. He hasn't had a tray taken to him since he learned to get in his wheelchair. He needs the exercise. He needs to be up and moving about on his own. And dammit, he's not going to lie up there and let you spoon-feed him lunch and sympathy."

"Now that I'm questioning your expertise—"

"Like hell you're not!"

"—but Athrun seems completely done in. I intend to call Dr. La Flagga this afternoon and ask_ him_ what _he_ thinks Athrun needs. Pete, why aren't you preparing the tray?"

"Rirah say no."

"Oh, fix the stupid tray." Cagalli said angrily and past Meer out of the room.

**OOOOoo**

"You're sure she understand?"

"Completely." Dr. La Flagga told Cagalli over the telephone. "I explained to Miss von Campbell how far Athrun had cone in this time you've been working with him. I told her that if the current pattern continues, he could be normal or near normal in a matter of weeks, but that it was vital that your program of therapy not be interrupted and that the patient's optimism be kept at a high level."

Cagalli's inner tension relaxed for the first time since she had opened the door to that woman. "'Thanks, Mu. I was about to have a battle royal in my hands here."

"I would bet on you to win any battle you might engaged in, Cagalli," he said around a chuckle. "If you have any problems, please let me know. But I think we headed off a major crisis."

"Thanks again for backing me up."

As soon as she replaced the telephone receiver, she ran out of her room and into Athrun's. But she was brought up short by what she saw.

Meer was sitting on the edge of his bed. She had changed clothes since her arrival and was now wearing linen slacks, but there still wasn't hair out of place and she looked far from Cagalli's idea of "casual".

Meer and Athrun's hand sandwiched between hers. He was laughing up at her. It struck Cagalli like a blow dart how devastatingly handsome he was when he was smiling like that. It struck her just as hard how much she had missed him. They'd spent so little time together the last two days. When they had been together, they'd been fighting.

It also hit her like a bold of lightning that she would very much like to scratch Meer von Campbell's eyes out, and not only because of her interference with Athrun's therapy.

Cagalli was jealous. Of Meer.

Oh, hell, she'd fallen in love.

**OOOOOOooooo**

**AN: **I'm sorry it was short. Must be because my time has been really short this pass few days as well, I've been running out of time. Anyway, please R&R…it might help to keep my time from running short. ^-^

**OOO**


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **I don't really think I still need to say this…but oh well here goes… I never own GS/D, I only dreamt I did.

**AN:** Special thanks to those who still continue to like this story…even though it's been taking me a long time to upload the chapters. To all, thank you. ^-^

**Athrun's Fall**

Chapter Nine

**OOOOoo**

When Meer noticed Cagalli standing in the doorway, she leaned over and kissed Athrun's cheek softly. "I'll see you later, darling."

Cagalli's hostile gaze followed her as she left the room. When Cagalli turned back toward Athrun, he, too, was staring at the empty doorway Meer had just glided through, only his expression was wistful.

"What'd you do, send out distress signals?" Cagalli asked him peevishly.

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you send for her to come and rescue you form my mean clutches?"

With no assistance from her he made it from his bed to his wheelchair. "I don't rely on other people, especially women, to bail me out of bad situations. Meer's arrival was a complete surprise to me."

"Does she do that often, just show up uninvited and unexpected?"

"She's an independent woman. She does what she likes." He looked up at her and added pointedly, "And she knows she has an open invitation."

"Better be careful about those open invitations, Zala. You Meer might put in an appearance sometime and create an awkward scene for you."

"Like what?"

"Like finding another woman in bed with you, dimwit."

"Well," he grunted as he levered himself onto that mat table, "that wasn't even a possibility this time, was it?"

Cagalli swung his legs up onto the paddle table. "No, it wasn't."

"So what's your gripe?"

"Was I griping?"

"It sounded like griping."

"I don't care if you keep a harem in here to coddle and cuddle you. Just clear out all the broads when it's time for your therapy."

"One broad hardly constitutes a harem."

"One or fifty, during the sessions you're going to work like hell so we can get this over with and I can go home. You start walking, and I'm outta here. In the meantime, as long as Snow White doesn't stand in my way again, we'll get along fine."

"Snow White?"

"Never mind."

"Who am I, the prince?"

"You're Dopey."

"Well, it's easy to see who you are. You're Grumpy."

In character she said, "Your muscles and joints are stiff."

"Ouch! Stop that."

"Not a word about the pain, Zala. It's your own fault. You brought it on yourself by lying around doing nothing for two days. Now we have to regain the range of motion you'd reached before you decided to become a sluggard."

They had little to say to one another after that. Cagalli didn't reduce that amount of his exercises, even though he had lost ground after two days of virtual inactivity.

"You can push harder than that, Athrun." They were nearing the end of the session when she broke the silence with that sharp rebuke. Usually they joked their way through the most painful exercises, swapping insults and sexual innuendos. The silence was getting on her nerves. She felt it was necessary to reestablish a little of the camaraderie they had enjoyed before The Kiss, Meer's untimely arrival, and her realization that what she felt for Athrun was more than professional concern. "I said push."

"I am, dammit." His teeth were already bared and his face was beaded with sweat.

"Harder."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. Come on." He made a second effort. "Better. Good. A little harder, Athrun. Higher."

"When a woman tells me to push harder and higher, I'm usually doing something much more fun."

Their eyes come together like magnets. Beneath the impact of his stare Cagalli became as out of breath as he. She relaxed her resisting arms and lowered his foot to the table. "Compared to that, this isn't much fun, is it? Sorry that I can't give you a better time."

He held her stare, then gave a dismissive shrug. "It's not your fault I fell into that chasm."

Whenever he spoke of the accident, his expression becomes bleak and self-flagellating. Cagalli was always moved to pity, knowing that he still grieved over the loss over his friend. "You've worked hard this afternoon and are due a reward."

"A massage?" he asked hopefully.

"With lotion."

"Great."

"Slip off your shorts and roll over."

He had trained himself to do that and did it very well. She complimented him as she draped him with a sheet. Feeling proud of himself, he stacked his hands beneath his cheek and watched her as she went into the bathroom. "You shocked Meer, you know."

"How?" she brought a damp cloth from the bathroom and began sponging his arms, legs, and back with it. After she'd blotted his skin dry, she coated her hands with unscented body lotion and began massaging it into the backs of his calves. He groaned with pleasure. His eyes closed. "Concentrating on relaxing the muscled now," she told him in a hypnotic voice. "Think about the muscled relaxing. What did Meer say about me?" she slipped that into the conversation casually, hoping he wouldn't pick up on her avid curiosity.

"She expected my physical therapist to have a beefy figure, blunt fingers, cropped hair. Starchy white uniform. Rubber-soled shoes. She didn't expect long legs in gym shorts, a mop of blond hair, and barefooted."

"If I'm allowed a vote, I definitely prefer the latter description over the former." She was working on the backs of his thighs and buttocks now. His sighs became deeper, more frequent, more sexual.

"Cagalli, do you believe in reincarnation?"

"I'm not sure. Why?"

"Because I think I just figured out what you were in your for mer life."

"Oh, what?"

"I'm not sure you want to know."

She leaned down and poked his shoulder. His eyes opened. "Does my former occupation have anything to do with sins of the flesh?"

His eyes moved over her hair. "Strictly with sins of the flesh."

"Then I'm glad I was there."'

"You're shameless," he mumbled, laughing and closing his eyes again.

Cagalli liked the way his eyelashes curled against his cheeks. In fact, she liked everything about his face. She secretly admired it as her hands smoothed lotion over his back. She applied just the right amount of pressure to each muscles, alternating flexing and relaxing her fingers. To touch his skin was thrilling. His vitality could be felt in each sculptd mucle.

She got so lost in her task that she didn't hear Meer until the door closed behind her. Cagalli hastily pulled the sheet up over Athrun's naked back. "You'll have to come back later," she said testily. "We're not quite finished. I'm relaxing him."

"So I see." Despite what Cagalli had just told her, Meer moved towards the mat table. "I have something that will relax him better than a massage. Martini, darling? Just the way you like it."

Athrun propped himself up on his elbows and extended his hand to take the drink. "Thanks." He sipped. "Hmm. Perfect."

They smile at each other, then looked at Cagalli expectantly. Defensively she stood her ground. To Athrun she said, "You'll need help getting back into your chair."

"Surely I can help him with that," Meer said smoothly.

Cagalli silently consulted Athrun. He was sipping his martini with a connoisseur's appreciation. She wanted to knock the glass out of his hand and wipe the silly grin off his face.

"All right." She headed for the door. "I'll see you before bedtime, Athrun."

"That won't be necessary either," Meer told her in that modulated, Swiss-girl's-school voice Cagalli had come to loathe. "I'll be sleeping in here with Athrun. I'll be at his beck and call through the night. We'll alert you if you're needed. Otherwise Athrun will see you tomorrow morning for his therapy session. Good evening, Miss Attha."

Cagalli gave her patient a fulminating look, then slammed the door.

**OOOOoo**

"What's that?"

"What does it look like?"

"It looks like a parallel bars."

"Congratulations," Cagalli told Athrun. "You just answered the question correctly. As your prize, do you want the zirconium ring, the set of scratchproof cookwear, or the weekend getaway in the Ozarks?"

"You're a regular comedian."

"It was my sense of comic timing that earned me F's in citizenship," Cagalli assembled the bars where she wanted them, then stood back and surveyed her handiwork. "There."

"What are they for?"

"Well, not for me to perform tricks on for your entertrainment."

"Then, what?"

"They're for you to perform tricks on for my entertainment."

He looked shocked and frightened. "Isn't this premature? Why are you bringing them in here now?"

"Because it's time you started practicing walking on them."

"As I said, you're a regular comedian."

"I wasn't joking."

"Neither was I," he snapped. He was eyeing the contraption as though it were possessed of evil powers. "I can't do it."

"You can try."

"I'll make a damn fool of myself even trying."

She released a deep groan. "Save it, will ya, Zala? You say the same thing every time I introduce something new. The pulleys, the wheelchair, the mat table. I've heard it all before, and it's getting real old. Come on. Haul ass. Out of the bed and into the chair."

"Into the chair, fine. Even into the mat table, fine. But don't expect me to stand on my own two feet. I can't."

"Dare you."

"What?'

She leaned down until her face was level with his. "I dare you, The Gutless Wonder, to even try."

She watched the irises of his eyes contract around the pupils. He gave her a long, measuring stare, then treated the parallel bars to another suspicious appraisal. He wet his lower lip with his tongue. "Okay, I'll try," he agreed with uncertainty. "But if I fail—"

"You'll try again." 

He wheeled his chair to the end of the bars, looking dubious as to what to do next. Cagalli stepped between the bars. She placed as belt around his waist and using that, hoisted him out of the chair. At the same time he pulled himself into an upright position with his arms. He supported himself between the bars while Cagalli knelt down and splinted his knees with knee cages.

As she stood up, she asked, "How hard are you?"

"Pardon?"

"Your belly, Zala, your belly. Do you need an abdominal binder?"

His eyes glinted with naughty thoughts. "Touch it and see how hard it is."

"Bet you say that to all the girls," she said, responding with a naughty smile of her own.

Accepting his unspoken dare, Cagalli splayed her hand over his tummy. The muscles beneath his warm, hair-dusted skin jumped reflexively. Standing close, they each felt te jolt of the contact. She pressed the pads of her fingers against him. His stomach muscles drew up taut and tight, telling her what she needed to know. The therapist in her was satisfied. But the woman in her was craving more. Cagalli regretfully withdrew her hand. "You're hard all right," she said gruffly.

"Yeah. The last thing I need is something to make me harder."

They held a stare for several heartbeats. Then Cagalli dragged her gaze away. "Let's begin."

"Show me what to do."

She bullied and coached and cajoled him. He shouted at her. She yelled at him. They cursed each other. But before the session was over, he had managed to shuffle his feet in a semblance of taking steps between the bars.

"Great work, Athrun. You're getting the hang—"

"_Oh, my God!"_

Meer's shriek startled Athrun and cause the muscled in his arms to give away. He would have collapse to the floor had Cagalli not been there to break his fall. Taking al his weight upon herself, she backed him up and gradually lowered him into the wheelchair. Then she whirled around to confront Meer. "Get out of here! How dare you interrupt us during a session."

"You can't order me around, Miss Attha."

"I damn sure can. Mr. Zala is my responsibility. While we're in this room, his attention has to be solely on me and what we're doing."

"The fact that he's your responsibility can be remedied," Meer threatened in a voice that could have chilled the martinis she was so fond of mixing for Athrun.

"I intend to take up that very subject with his physician. Indeed, another physician is a distinct possibility. It seems to me that what you are doing for Athrun at Dr. La Flagga's recommendation is causing more harm than good. He is obviously in pain."

Cagalli whirled around to see that her patient was wearing an expression of sheer agony. "Athrun?" she dropped to her knees in front of his wheelchair and began massaging his calf muscles. It was contracted into a knot as round and hard as a baseball.

Meer moved alongside his chair and blotted his sweating forehead with a monogrammed handkerchief. "Leave him alone now, Miss Attha. Haven't you done enough for one morning?"

"_Me?_ I wasn't the one who came barging in where I wasn't needed or wanted and caused him to break concentration."

It took several minutes, but eventually Athrun's muscle returned to its normal state. His contorted facial features relaxed. But Cagalli could tell the fall had cause him as much embarrassment as pain. It had hurt his pride and bruised his ego. She could easily throttle Meer for undoing in a matter of seconds what it had taken her an hour to work up to. Athrun's confidence was shattered. The next time she suggested using the bars, she would have to start from the scratch, convincing him of his ability. Damn the woman!

"Kindly leave us," she said stiffly.

"Your time us up."

Cagalli consulted the clock on the nightstand. "Can't you tell time? We've got fifteen more minutes."

"Surely you're not going to make him stand up again."

"No, we'll go through a series of exercises to relax the muscles."

"Then, I'll stay and watch."

"You'll do no such thing. This is between my patient and me. Athrun, you don't want her here, do you?"

Meer laid her hand on his shoulder. "We're not talking about pouring tea, Snow White. You don't learn 'to do this' in an afternoon. It takes years of study ad hands-on practice to get certification."

"It can't be that difficult," Meer said with a soft, derisive laugh. "I should know how to do it, so that I'll be able to give Athrun a therapy once we're married."

Cagalli's heart hit the floor. She gaped at Meer, then at Athrun. "Married?" she wheezed.

**OOOOoo**

**AN:** To those who hate Meer, I'm on your side sharing your same sentiment of abhorrence, detestation, loathing, odium, revulsion, disgust, animosity, dislike, aversion, resentment, ill feeling, distaste, repulsion, you know I could go on forever but some people—really. I was force to write this due to 'some people' whose been showing up at my place pressuring me with their noisy demands. _Thank you_ guys for making my day unforgettable . . . **I'll remember this! R&R**, it might lift my head from being stuck in the oven. And also, if you want you could comment about those 'some people' who keeps depriving me of my precious sleeps and dreams of AsuCaga. It would be one heck of a good read. ^-^ . . .

**OOO**


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I own… (Lightning strike the ground)…Ok! Allright! I'll never lie! *grumble-I don't own GS/D-grumble* (thunder)…Hey! I didn't lie! (Continues to grumble)…

**Athrun's Fall **

Chapter Ten

**OOOOoo**

"You didn't know?" Meer affectionately ran her fingers through Athrun's hair. "Athrun didn't actually propose to me until yesterday, though he was close to it the last time we were together, which was only days before his accident."

Cagalli looked down at him with stark heartache and incredulity. "You asked her to marry you?"

"We're seriously talking about it."

"You actually want to marry _her?_ Why?"

"I beg your pardon," Meer said with affront. "Athrun—"

"Be quite, Meer," he interrupted sharply. "I want to hear what Cagalli has to say." He hadn't taken his eyes off her. They gazed up to her steadily from beneath his brows, but his expression wasn't malevolent. If anything, he seemed amused. At the very least, curious. "Why don't you think I should marry Meer? We've been close acquaintances for several year."

"A bit more than that, darling," Meer interjected. Athrun shot her a warning glance to keep silence.

He turned back to Cagalli. "Meer is sympathetic to my present condition. However it turns out, she's reconciled to living with me."

"What do you mean by 'however it turns out'?"

"My being sexually dysfunctional."

"Is it really necessary to discuss something so personal with the hired help?" Meer asked with irritation.

Athrun quelled her with another hard look. "I'll deal with this my own way, Meer. If you can't keep quiet, leave the room." She chose to stay, but her red lips drew up into a disapproving pout.

"Meer is willing to marry me in spite of my inability to sire children," he calmly told Cagalli. "She's kind. A cultured, congenial woman. Why wouldn't any man but especially one in my situation, be overjoyed that she consented to marry me?"

Cagalli hiked her chin up a notch and flung her hair back defiantly. "If you want to make the biggest mistake of your life, it's no skin off my nose."

Again Meer opened her mouth to protest, but Athrun shot her a look of such dire threat that her perfect white teeth clicked shut.

"Why do you think that marriage to Meer would be a big mistake?"

"Remember, you asked for this," Cagalli cautioned him.

"I'll remember."

"Okay," Cagalli said, taking a deep breath. "She's not acting in your best interest. She's babying you, mollycoddling you, pampering and petting you."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Everything."

"You don't think husbands should be pampered?"

"Not husbands in your condition and certainly not at this stage in your treatment. Once you're back to normal, you can be waited on hand and foot, and I'll give a green light to any woman dumb enough to do that for a man. But right now, you should be driven and bullied and prodded—"

"In other words, she should treat me the same way you do."

"Exactly! What she's doing is fine if you're content to lie around and sip the martinis she brings you and eat your meals from her hand. If that's the quality of life you want, then far be it from me to argue with your decision. If your want to watch your nice hard belly turn to fat and the muscles in your legs shrivel to mush and your arms become flabby from disuse, not to mention your chin and chest, then fine. Go to the altar with her and say, 'I do'.

"But if you want to be Athrun Zala, if you want to walk and jog and ski and climb mountains, which is what you told me you wanted, then you'd better set her straight or ditch her altogether."

"Athrun!"

Cagalli disregarded Meer's exclamation of outrage and drove her point home. "Before you make up your, though, consider this. When the ski season rolls around and all her buddies are jetting off to Saint-Moritz, where do you think that'll leave you? Huh? I'll tell you. Alone. Abandoned. Because she'll go to Saint-Moritz. And you'll urge her to go because you'll feel guilty because she's sacrificed so much for you. You'll be left cooed up in some stuffy bedroom with an even stuffer servant, who will despise and deride you for your weakness and take his sweet time in answering the tinkling little bell on your nightstand.

"While your _kind_ wife is out taking on the slopes—and probably a few ski instructors, because by now the newness of the noble gesture will have worn off and she'll be thinking that she made a bad deal—you'll be lying helpless and useless. You'll be torturing yourself, wondering who she's with and what she's doing. You'll be remembering with bitterness the days when you picked up ski bunnies and took them home to snuggle. You'll be lamenting the days when you controlled a globe-spanning corporation and left people breathless in your energetic wake.

"Eventually she'll leave you more frequently to go sailing or grouse shooting or meet a lover, and then the day will come when it's just not chic to be married to a paraplegic anymore and she'll divorce you and probably take off with a few of your millions, which she'll feel she earned for giving you her time and trouble."

"Of all the—I won't stand here and—"

"You're free to leave anytime, Meer," Athrun said blandly.

"What? I wouldn't think of leaving you alone with this wretched person. She's obviously unbalanced."

"I'm no such thing," Cagalli shot back. "And as for being alone with him, I was here for weeks before you showed up."

Snow White's cheeks turned a deep, rosy pink. "What does she mean by that, Athrun?"

"Use your imagination, Meer," he said.

"You actually engaged in . . . in . . ."

"Sexual dalliances. Can't you bring yourself to say it?" Cagalli tauted. "He kissed me. More than once."

"Not only kissed, but enjoyed," Athrun added softly. "Very much."

Meer was rendered speechless by the impetus behind his whispered words. So was Cagalli. She locked states with Athrun and it was several moments before she could continue. "Which berings us around to the subject of sex."

"It does?" he smiled that grin, that endearing, beautiful, wonderful grin that gave his face a piratical aspect.

"That's what this is really all about, isn't it?" Cagalli asked rhetorically, as though they were alone. "You're afraid that if you don't grab the first woman who is sympathetic to your condition, you might miss out on women altogether. Athrun," she said earnestly, "if I thought she was sincere, I'd pin a medal of self-sacrifice on her myself. But if I were you, I'd examine why she conceded the point of not having children so quickly."

Both ignored Meer's grasp. Cagalli plunged on. "Did you ever think that she might be relieved? Maybe she's glad she won't have a husband who'll demand that she dutifully eke out an offspring. I doubt she would want to sacrifice her figure or her time to a child. She jus doesn't seem cut to breast-feed and change diapers. And while a nanny can do one, she sure as hell can't do the other."

"Breast-feeding isn't essential," he reminded her quietly.

"To me it would be."

"Would it?"

Deep down inside, Cagalli quivered. "That's not the issue. You're getting me off the track." She began again. "I didn't think you'll have a single problem in your marital bed, either for recreational or procreational purposes. To any woman who truly loves you, it won't matter either way. But I know it matter to _you_. So if you're that worried about its not working, I'd rather you try it out on me before taking a chance that it won't and marrying Snow White."

A stunned silence followed. None was more stunned than Cagalli. She heard her own words, but she couldn't believe that she'd spoken them. It had been an impulsive statement. Through now that she had time to review it, she realized that it was true and conveyed her deepest feelings.

She didn't mind what Meer thought about her speaking her heart, but she did mind what Athrun thought. She couldn't bear looking into his eyes. They revealed nothing except the intensity of his reaction. But the reaction itself remained a mystery.

Turning on her bare heel, she left the room.

Several ponderously silent seconds ticked by before Meer daintily cleared her throat and spoke. "Can you believe that a hired person would have the gall to speak so candidly about what is absolutely none of her affair? What a trial she must have been for you, darling." She shivered with revulsion. "I'm amazed you tolerated her this long. I'll see that she's packed and out of the house by nightfall."

Athrun caught her arm as she brushed past his chair. She glanced down, surprise by the strength of his grip. "Cagalli won't be packing, but you will."

"You can't be serious, Athrun. Surely you didn't put stock in anything that derange woman said? You couldn't have. You're more intelligent than that."

"I'm very intelligent. That's why I keep tabs on every acquaintances, friends, enemy." He paused before adding to his distaste, "And _Lover_." He released her arm and leaned back in his wheelchair. "Cagalli didn't tell me anything I didn't already know." He smiled thoughtfully, as if momentarily distracted. "Not about you anyway."

When his attention focused back on Meer, his expression turned serious again. "I know about the creditors beating down your door."

"How crass of you to mention finances, Athrun."

"I wouldn't if finances weren't the reason you're here." He pressed on before she could offer a lame denial. "We had some good time, Meer."

"You—"

He shrugged off her scathing insult. "I was never close to marrying you. Not by a long shot. I knew from the moment we met why you pursued me so relentlessly."

"I fell instantly in love," she cried.

"With my stock portfolio."

"That's not true. I care for you deeply. I came here to—"

"To do exactly as Cagalli guessed. You wanted to smother me with your tender, loving care until I married you out of gratitude. And it would have been a bargain for both of us. I would have a wife who tolerated my incapacities. You would have a husband with the means to buy you out of hock.

"Only you miscalculated one thing," he continued. "I won't settle for being nursed for the rest of my life. I've always done things myself. I refuse to let this setback be anything but temporary. I might have to run my corporation from a wheelchair, but I'll never become a bedridden invalid content to let my brain atrophy while my _loving_ wife takes advantage of me."

"You seemed to enjoy being an invalid the last couple of days." She remarked.

"You caught me on an off day," he said with chagrin. "I was sulking because Cagalli had spurned me. Besides, I wanted to see how far you would go. It's a cliché, but I gave you enough rope and you hanged yourself."

"I was being put through a silly test, is that it?"

"No, actually Cagalli was. She passed her test with flying colors. You flunked."

Meer's lips curled with contempt. "Speaking of clichés, your attraction to this foulmouthed tart is laughable and pathetic. Any man in your condition would fancy himself in love with his physical therapist."

"That's almost verbatim what she said. But I don't think either of you is right."

"And you pride yourself on your intellect," she sneered. "Don't you see that's she's the only woman available to you?"

"You've been available, Meer," he reminded her softly. "I didn't want you, did I?"

"Bastard."

He looked taken aback. "And you accused Cagalli of being foulmouthed?"

"She dresses like a whore!"

"Don't talk about her like that, and you were the one willing to sell herself."

"I can't believe that you seriously want _her_."

"Oh, I want her," he said as a slow grin spread across his face. "And I intend to take her up to her offer."

**OOOOoo**

From her bedroom window Cagalli watched Pete hold open the back door of the car for a huffy Meer. After she had climbed in, he went around to the driver's side. Poor Pete. He would have to endure the ride to the airport in Meer's company. She didn't appear to be in the best of humors.

As for Cagalli, her heart was soaring.

She had overcome all the obstacles standing in the way of Athrun's recovery: his initial rage, his adolescent puppy lover for her, his sympathetic ally. Invariably patients had a friend or spouse who countermanded the therapist's instructions. Though they were motivated by love and compassion, they were detrimental to the patient's progress.

Hopefully Athrun and she had seen the last of Meer von Campbell. It should be smooth sailing from here on.

Well, there was that one tiny personal glitch, but Cagalli choose to shelve that dilemma for the time being.

She waited until the car's taillights had disappeared into the dusky twilight before she went to Athrun's door and knocked. Getting his permission, she slipped inside the room. She stayed near the door, stricken by a sudden and uncharacteristic shyness.

"She's gone."

"Good riddance."

She shook her head in puzzlement. "You're not upset?"

"Vastly relieved."

"Care to explain?"

"Nope."

"Had a dilly of a fight, did ya?"

"My lips are sealed."

"Damn! I was hoping to hear all the juicy details."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Athrun said, smiling hugely, "but I'll save the explanation for another time. I've had all the Meer I can stand for one day."

Brimming with pleasure over his words, Cagalli said, "She had the house in an uproar while she was packing and making travel arrangements. I decided to postpone your session until after she left."

"I sensed that was the reason for the delay. But now that you're here, can we do the bars again?"

She thumped the side of her head with heel of her hand. "Am I hearing right? Aren't you the patient who put up such a stink about the bars this morning?"

"I've had a change of heart."

"So, I see. Well—"

"Oh, wait. Where's my poster? The one Meer called 'an abominable eyesore' that was desecrating my walls."

"That bitch!" Cagalli exclaimed, popping her hands on her hips. "She said that about my poster? What could she find wrong with a picture of a lady and a fruit basket?"

"I don't think she object to the subject matter. It was the juxtaposition of the lady and the banana that she found fault with."

"Some people have no taste."

"Where is it?" he asked, laughing at her exasperation.

"In my room. She told Pete to throw it away, but he passed it to me."

"Bring it back."

Looking perturbed, but actually extremely pleased, Cagalli went to her room and came back with the poster. She replaced it on the nail she'd hammered into the wall herself.

When she had the frame hanging straight, Athrun said, "There. Much better. Now we can get started."

They went to the bars again. His arms supported him better than during the morning session, but he relied more to his legs too. She had to coax him to quit. "Athrun, you're wearing yourself out."

"Five more minutes."

"What good will you be tomorrow if you exhaust yourself tonight?"

"I'm not exhausted, I'm exhilarated."

Eventually she urged him back to his wheelchair. "Let's skip the mat table. Get back to the bed. I'll give you rubdown there. I think you could use a sponge bath too."

It was after his sponge bath and after his rubdown and when she was saying good night that he looked up at her beguilingly and asked, "What about the other?"

"The other?'

"The recreational and procreational marital bed skills I'm going to get so god at with your help." His voice dropped to a husky pitch. "When do we start working on those?"

**OOOOoo**

**AN:** To be truthful I was kinda in the bad mood when I wrote the first half but then something came up and my mood change. So please review, any constructive review or just review, to keep my current mood last. Also, Thank you for those who previously reviewed ^-^ . . . don't forget **R&R.**


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **I promised not to lie. So I guessed it's—I don't own GS/D again routine from now on…

**AN: **I wrote this, for you guys, for the sake of my AsuCaga dreams and for **under wears**. Yeah, that was quiet a blow … I never care so much for under wears . . . until recently. You guys would know by the end of this chapt. AsuCaga rule! ^-^

**Athrun's Fall**

Chapter Eleven

**OOOOoo**

Cagalli said nothing.

For several moments he waited her out, then said, "Well?"

"Well what?"

"When do we start that therapy?" reaching up, he curled his hand behind her neck, "I say now."

She forced a tight little laugh. "You didn't think I was serious, did you?"

His eyes narrowed and smiling, he nodded his head. "Yeah, I think you were."

"That just goes to show how wrong a person can be. I was talking off the top of my head, spouting off, letting my mouth overload my rear, as my dad used to say. It was a ploy to get rid of Snow White. I would have said anything to get rid of her. She was undoing all that we had done. She was undermining—Why are you shaking your head?"

"All those excuse are valid up to a point, Cagalli, but you were emotionally involved. You were upset. Without intending to, you said exactly what was on your head. It just popped out of the heat of the moment."

Reflexively and somewhat nervously, Cagalli wet her lips. Athrun ran his thumb along her lower lip behind her tongue. She angled her head back and away, but he didn't remove his hand from around her neck.

"Look, Zala, I was bluffing her, okay? Can't you take a joke?"

"I can tell when someone's joking. You weren't."

"How do you know?"

He sat up and leaned forward, until she could feel his breath on her face. "Because you're hot for me."

"I am not."

"You've been running this show for weeks. I've had no choice but to let you take charge." He whisked an airy-light kiss across her lips. "This is _my_ show. I'm taking over."

"I won't let—"

"Shut up, Cagalli."

His hand made a yanking motion against her neck that brought her face down to his. His lips rubbed several hard, rough kisses on hers before they gentled. Sipping at her lips, he whispered, "Open your mouth."

"Athrun—"

"Thanks." His tongue spiraled down into the sweet wet heat of her mouth.

Cagalli whimpered, first in protest, then in longing, finally in gratification. Her rigid posture relaxed and she collapse against him. The resisting muscles in her neck became pliant, so he released his hold on them and slid all ten fingers into her hair and folded them around her scalp.

Tilting his head to one side, he ate her mouth with gentle ardor. Cagalli laid her hands on his bare chest. The hair was crisp but soft. It curled around her fingers. She loved having them ensnared by it.

When they drew apart, she breathlessly spoke his name. His lips went in search of the tastiest part of her neck. "You're a lightning rod," he said.

"Am I?" she angled her head to one side, allowing him to caress one ear with his lips and tongue.

"You attract men everywhere you go."

"Not intentionally."

"Baby, you couldn't advertise your allure any plainer if you had 'Born to Bed' tattooed on your chest."

"I don't share my favors easily."

"That's what makes you so damn sexy. You advertise it, but you don't give it away. It's enough to drive a man crazy until he gets to see you. Touch. Taste."

He groaned the last word against her lips a heartbeat before his tongue reclaimed her mouth as his possession. He reached beneath her tank top and worked the ribbed knit up and over her breasts, then pushed her far enough away from him to look for her. Her breasts were flushed and beautiful with desire. His hands cupped them.

He sigh a curse before leaning forward and pressed his lips to her nipple. Cagalli felt his tongue, warm and sinuous, stroking it, making it hard and ready for his damply tugging mouth.

Involuntarily her hands gripped his hair; her head fell back; she let out a soft cry. She wanted to hold his head against her forever. When he pulled away, she moaned, feeling deprive. She looked at him, glassy-eyed and bewildered. "Don't stop," she said hoarsely.

He kissed her quickly and hard. "I want to see you. Will you undress for me?"

Cagalli's head cleared instantly. "Huh?"

"I'd love to undress you myself," he said ruefully, "But I want to be standing on my own two feet when I do." He kissed her again and leaving his lips against hers, whispered urgently, "Undress for me, Cagalli. Make it last. Make it sexy."

She slid along the edge of the bed until her feet touched the floor and she stood up. Now was her chance. She had escaped his caressing hands and persuasive lips. This was her last chance to reestablish her professional detachment. Now was the moment to renounce the personal feelings she had for this patient. In short, it was time to turn and run.

But she stood there beside his bed as though rooted. The passionate fire in Athrun's eyes, as well as her own need to love and be loved, compelled her to stay. The professional in her took a giant backward step, leaving the woman in her, which was much more vulnerable, to face this dilemma alone. There was no doubt which she would choose to do.

It had been no contest. Not really. Before she had even left his arm, she knew she would return to them. Naked and wanting.

Keeping her eyes on his, she pulled the stretchy knit tank top over her head. She held her arms high above her for several seconds before gradually lowering them and dropping the tank top on the floor. Her hair sifted back into place and settled on her bare shoulders. Athrun followed each movement. His eyes glowed their approval of her breasts and their taut, coral centers.

Cagalli reached behind her for the button on her shorts. Her fingers had lost their usual dexterity, but she managed to get the shorts unfastened and unzipped. She hesitated a tempting moment before inching them down over her hips, then letting them slide down her legs to the floor. She stepped out of them, leaving her in only a sheer pair of brief. Her characteristic arrogance evaporated. Her smile was shy, half-formed and uncertain. Terribly arousing to the man on the bed.

"Come closer," he ordered gruffly.

Cagalli took hesitant baby steps to bring her even with the side of his bed and within his reach. He extended his hand to touch and drew a breathtaking circle around her navel. His fingertips slowly traced triangular perimeter of her bikini brief. "Beautiful," he said.

He slid his hand beneath the lacy elastic strip that rode her hipbone. His hand was very warm against the cool flesh it conformed to. His thumb revolved over her hipbone. Even after he withdrew his hand, he lingered to play with the lacy elastic. 

"Finally."

"I . . . I can't, Athrun."

"Why?"

"I'm nervous."

"Surely you've undressed in front of a man before."

She made a helpless gesture. "But it was always . . . I mean—"

"Please, Cagalli."

The appeal on his face melted the last of her modesty. With only a trace of reservation she slipped her thumbs into the waistband and worked the briefs down until she could step out of them. Then she, who didn't have a single modest cell, who had always scorned those who did, who had no misgivings about the human body in any form, straightened and faced him bashfully.

Athrun swore softly. "I knew you'd be beautiful, but . . ." he was too busy visually feasting on her to complete his sentence. "Lie down."

His arms, made steely and powerful because of all the demands he'd made on them lately, encircled her waist. He drew her down and close against him. Madly her kissed her hair, her temples, her nose, her cheeks, finally her mouth.

With a low moan, he said. "Ah, that feels good."

"Nakedness?"

"No. this."

He took her hand and carried it beneath the sheet and down his body. Quite naturally and in their own accord, Cagalli's fingers closed tightly around of his endowment. He hissed another string of swear words and sought her lips with his. Their kiss as deep and hungry, their tongues carnal and selfish.

Reaching down, Athrun positioned her thigh to lie over his. His palm smoothed her hip, the back of her thigh. Together they sighed.

"Can you feel that?" she wanted to know.

"I can feel the pressure. I can feel your skin. I can feel this." Slipping his hand between their bodies, he touched the feathery softness between her thighs. Her reaction was electrical. She shuddered violently.

He hesitated. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, no. You didn't hurt me at all."

She ground her forehead against his breastbone as his fingers pressed into her creamy softness. Clutching his shoulders so hard that her nails bit into his flesh, and squeezing her eyes closed, she surrendered to the sensation his stroking fingers evoked. She rocked her body upon his hand. Heat waves of pleasure radiated through her, each one more exquisite than the one preceding it, until she was consumed by them.

And even for moments afterward they shimmied through her, tiny shock waves of light and ecstasy.

When at least she opened her eyes and raised her head, she realized that his arms were no longer around her, but resting at his sides. He was lying against the pillows, his face expressionless and cold. His eyes were open but sightless. Worst of all, he was no longer aroused.

"Athrun?" she had barely enough air to make a sound, but she knew he had heard her. He said nothing, so she repeated his name.

"You'd better leave me alone now," he said curtly. "I'm tired."

Cagalli stared at him with misapprehension. Remorsefully she eased away. She paused, but when he made no move to stop her, she swung herself over the edge of the bed. Mortified and confused, she swept up her discarded clothing and fled the room.

**OOOOoo**

**AN:** OhNO! Athrun finally lost it! Is this the end? I hope not. So please **R&R . . . **as usual I always love your reviews. ^-^ . . .

****UltimatelyCRazy!** : You got your chapter so leave my window alone! Stop sneaking in the middle of the night—demanding! And also—**stop** the Sunday-panty-raiding-schedule! Some people are having suspicions and some people are missing their **Special-favorite-undies . . . **come on guys, you got your chapter . . . give those back! I know it's you guys since I could hear you from a mile bickering on who should raid the old-timers house and take his . . . thong? Have you guys been playing the truth-drink-dare game again?

**PS:** What the heck are you planning with all those 'things' anyway?


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **I don't . . . blah-blah-blah GS/D. I think that counts as a disclaimer.

**AN:** I'm so tired. Taking down millions of stairs on foot can kill you! Anyway, I'll see what I can do for those who wanted Athrun's POV since I'm seeing this story through Cagalli. So for now, please be patient. I'll try my best! I hope you won't stop liking this fict. Anyway. . . here it is . . .

**Athrun's Fall**

Chapter Twelve

**OOOOoo**

She was glad the guest bedroom had a ceiling fan. That gave her something to stare at. She had watched it for hour after hour as the blades circled above the bed, stirring the air and drying her tears into salty tracks as they fell onto her cheeks.

She must have reviewed it at least a thousand times in her head, but she still couldn't pin down a logical explanation for Athrun's behavior. His blood had been running high and hot. What had turned it so cold so fast? _What?_ What had she done? What hadn't she done?

Anguished and miserable, she rolled to her side. One tear was too heavy for the fan to dry. It slid down her cheek, rolled off the tip of her nose, and splashed onto her pillow. She rebuked it . . . and all its predecessors and successors. She never cried. She never, _never_ cried over a man. It made her furious that she was breaking that rule and weeping over Athrun Zala. What a heartless cad he'd been to virtually kick her out of his bed.

Yet he hadn't been smug about it. It wasn't as though he had used her and disposed of her like a plastic razor. If anything, he had appeared more shattered than she. But why when she had given him what he wanted and needed, when he had proved himself capable of—

The thought crystallized and gave her pause.

Slowly she rolled to her back again. Her lips parted in surprise. Why hadn't she thought of it sooner? Clearly now, she recalled Athrun's face as it had looked when she left him. Not triumphant. Quite the contrary. Failure had been stamped on his features. It wasn't that he hadn't wanted to look at her. He hadn't wanted her to look at him.

Absently she rubbed all traces of tears off her cheeks and whispered something unladylike into the darkness. "No wonder he was upset."

She knew Athrun' body intimately. But just as intimately as she knew his physiology, she knew his psyche. She knew what made him tick. She knew how he thought. Given any set of circumstances, she would be able to make an educated guess what Athrun's reaction would be to those circumstances.

And because she knew him so well, she now understand what had upset him.

She also realized what she would have to do about it. It would cost her some pride, but that hardly seemed of consequence when the quality of a man's life was at stake. The method she had in mind was highly unethical, surely grounds to have her license as a physical therapist revoked. Nonetheless she would do what she must. Her motivation was the strongest known to man short of survival: Love.

**OOOOoo**

Cagalli breezed into Athrun's room the following morning, looking as fresh and chipper.

"Morning, Athrun. How goes it?" Athrun was sitting in his wheelchair, staring out the window. His mood was morose, just as she had predicted.

"Fine."

"Sleep well?"

"I slept okay."

"Pete said you didn't eat much breakfast."

"What are you, my mother?"

She laughed gustily. "Well, if I am," she said, dropping an eyelid, "we're guilty of a grievous sin." He didn't even crack a smile. "Not funny?"

"Not funny."

"What's wrong with you, sad sack? Need some stewed prunes?"

"You come near me with stewed prunes and I'll—"

"What? Beat me with a stick?"

"Will you just do your job?"

"What a crosspatch," she muttered. Standing directly in front of him, she raise her arms above her head and stretched, knowing that as she did her T-shirt crept up to give Athrun a view of her bare belly above her bikini swim trunks. "I slept marvelously well. Breakfast was yummy. Now I'm ready for a swim. Want to come out with me?"

"No, I'll stay here."

"And let that gorgeous tan of yours fade?" she asked in mock dismay. "I'll set up the mat table on the deck and we'll do your therapy session outside today. How 'bout it?"

"I want to work at the bars again."

"Later today."

"Why not now?"

"Because I said no."

"Because you want to slough off around my swimming pool and work your own tan."

She thrust out one shapely hip and glared down at him. "I'm going to ignore that, Zala, even though comments like that make me madder than hell. When are you going to get it through your thick skull that I'm the therapist and you're the patient and until you can fight me down, what I say goes?"

He banged his fist on the armrests of the wheelchair and shouted, "I want out of this damn thing."

"Right," she drawled. "So we're wasting time up here arguing when we could be downstairs working on getting you out of it," she said sweetly. Stepping into him, she disengaged the brake and pushed the chair across the room and through the bedroom door.

When they reached the terrace, she poured him a glass of pineapple juice from an iced pitcher that she had prearranged with Pete to have waiting for them on the table. She kissed Athrun fondly on the cheek as she handed it to him. "Maybe this will improve your mood by the time I get back."

Apparently he was too stunned by her seemingly spontaneous kiss to speak. She peeled the T-shirt over her head and dropping it negligently on the deck, strutted to the end of the diving board and executed a perfect dive that barely created a splash. After swimming several vigorous laps, she took the steps out of the shallow end and shook the water from her hair.

"That feels great! Want to sit in the shallow end?"

"I'll pass."

She shrugged indifferently. "Another time."

Athrun's eyes were on her, though she pretended not to notice as she walked toward the bin where a supply of beach towels was always folded and neatly stacked. Water was beading on her skin, just as she had planned for it to. Baby oil worked miracles.

She blotted the shimmery droplets dry with the fluffy towel, then rubbed her hair with it. Keeping her back to him, she reached around and unsnapped her bra. She replaced it with the T-shirt she'd taken off only minutes earlier. The soft cotton molded to her damp skin.

When she faced Athrun again, she saw that her ruse had worked. He was gripping the arms of the wheelchair so hard that his knuckles had turned white. He seemed about to come out of the wheelchair, either by a spring action device beneath the seat or by his own propulsion. His eyes were dark, smoldering with internal combustion. And he was hard. His nylon gym shorts couldn't conceal his arousal.

"I see Pete has set up your mat table." She gestured toward it. "Can you get it by yourself?"

He wheeled his chair up to the table. Supporting himself by placing one hand on the edge of the table and the other on the arm of his wheelchair, he was able to transfer himself. Then he lifted his own legs into position.

"Soon you won't even need me." Leaning closer, Cagalli added in a sultry voice, "Not for this anyway."

"I'm ready to do it."

Her eyes dropped significantly to his laps. "So I see."

"Cagalli," he warned.

"Okay, okay. You're anxious to get on those bars again. But you can't blame a girl for being impressed with the other . . . accomplishments."

They went through a routine of stretching and strengthening exercises. She resisted each of his movements, and though he cursed her for her intelligence, he was smiling proudly when they finished.

"Better today, right?"

"You'll be able to kick me into the pool tomorrow." She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Bet you'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?"

He laughed with chagrin. "More than that, I'd like to hold you under."

"Under what?"

Secretly pleased, she watched a muscle in his cheek twitch with desire and annoyance. "Under the water."

"Oh." She looked away, as though his answer had disappointed her. "Are you in a hurry to get back to your room?"

"Not especially. Why?"

"It might be nice to lie out here and sunbathe."

"Go ahead. You're off duty now."

"I meant together. Why don't you stay out here with me?"

"What for?"

"For the sun, goose. Some cultures believe that it has healing powers."

"That's superstitious bull."

"Well it certainly can't hurt," she said tartly. "But suit yourself." She spread out one of the beach towel on the deck and lay down on her stomach, but not before whipping off her T-shirt.

"What the hell!" Athrun exclaimed. "Don't you have a gain of decency?"

She rolled over. "What are you hyped up about now?"

He made a waving motion down at her exposed breasts. "Pete could come out here."

"I gave Pete the day off."

"_You _gave _my_ employee a day off?"

"The house is spotless, the laundry's done, I can cook. Well, enough so that we won't starve," she amended. "He wanted to go to his cousin's birthday luau. So I said yes." Before Athrun could launch into a litany of protests, she slapped a tube of suntan gel into his hand. "Rub some of this on my back, will ya?"

"I can't reach you from here."

"So get down here where you can." She lay back down and returned her cheek to her tacked hands. Just as she had bargained on, he began lowering himself out of his chair and onto the deck. Weeks ago he had had to use steps in graduated heights to get from the seat of his wheelchair to the floor mats they used for some on his exercises. Now he could do it with the strength of his arms, chest, and back muscles alone. She was careful to his her proud smile.

"Where do you want it?" he asked grouchily.

"Everywhere." Seconds later she said, "Whoa! Not so hard. And not so fast. Hmm, that's better."

Shortly, his second hand joined the first. They moved over her back with slow, smooth strokes, rubbing in the gel. Occasionally his fingertips grazed the sides of her breasts, and he would pause before resuming the massage.

When she sensed that he was about to withdraw, she said, "The back of my legs, too, please." She mumbled the request sleepily, but she'd never been so wide awake in her entire life. Her nerve endings were singing like a well-rehearsed choir.

He didn't respond to her with right away, but hesitated for a long time. Cagalli's heart nervously knocked against the deck beneath her. She clamped her eyes shut and hoped with all her might that he would do as she wanted him to, as much for his good as hers.

His better judgment gave way to his natural urges. She felt his hands on the back of her calves. Then on her thighs. Pressing and massaging, working their way up. She had to clamp her teeth over her lower lip to keep from moaning with pleasure s his fingers gently squeezed her flesh.

Far too soon for both of them he pulled away. Cagalli rolled over just far enough to allow him a peek of one breast. "Finished?" eyes riveted to the pert, pink tip of her breast, Athrun nodded. "Maybe you should have become a physical therapist," she told him huskily. "You've certainly got the touch."

Using the methods she had taught him, he maneuvered himself back to his wheelchair and hoisted himself into it. When he was situated, he looked down at her and said, "But not the callousness."

Stung, Cagalli snatched up her T-shirt and held it against her chest. "I'm not callous."

"Then cruel."

"I'm not cruel either."

"Oh, no?" he wheeled his chair around, summarily turning his back on her.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To my room."

"I'll bring you lunch."

"Don't bother."

"No bother. It's my duty."

"Duty be damned," he called over his shoulder. "I'd rather go hungry than be hustled by you."

His wheelchair disappeared into the shadows of the house. Cagalli remained staring after him for a long time, feeling a desperate need to cry again. She was a good one for laying down plans. Too bad they always backfired in her face.

**OOOOoo**

At first she couldn't identify the sound that had awakened her. Before opening her eyes, she lay motionless in her bed and swept the cobwebs of sleep from her brain. When she did opened her eyes, she was surprised to see that the guest bedroom was bathed in the violet light of dusk. She had slept longer than she'd planned to.

When she had come in from the pool hours earlier, she'd been drained of energy and spirit. After a quick shower and shampoo she had barely had the strength to crawl beneath the sheet and position the pillow under her head. She'd fallen asleep instantly, being physically and emotionally exhausted after her sleepless night.

But she had intended to wake up long before now. It was way past time for Athrun's session. Feeling guilty, she rolled to her back and kicked the sheet aside.

That's when she noticed the sound again. And this time recognition went through her brain like a painful splinter. "What the devil?"

Her feet hit the floor at a run. She grabbed a kimono from the end of her bed and shoved her arms through the sleeves as she dashed toward the door of her bedroom. By the time she reached Athrun's room and flung open the door, she had carelessly tied the belt of the robe.

But it was still a disheveled Cagalli, with hair in a tangle and eyes puffy from sleep, that he addressed from his standing position between the parallel bars. "It's about time you got here."

"Athrun!" she cried, rushing forward. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Watch."

She gasped softly as he bent from the waist and supporting himself with one hand, touched the floor with the other. It was a struggle, but he pulled himself erect. "How'd you learn to do that?"

"You left your book here." He hitched his head to indicate the therapy manual lying on his nightstand. "It's to stretch the hamstrings and calf muscles."

"I know what exercise is for," she retorted. "I also know you're not ready for it."

"Who says?"

"I do. How'd you get yourself to stand? Where are your knee cages?"

Ignoring her interrogation, he said. "Watch what else I can do. Without you I might add." He concentrated so had that sweat popped out over his brow. The muscles of his arms and chest bulged. His thighs contracted. His efforts allowed him to take a few shuffling steps.

Cagalli ducked under one of the bars and stood between them only a few inches away from him. "That's wonderful, Athrun, but don't o anymore for now. You'll hurt—Athrun! Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes."

"Then stop. Right there. I mean it. Don't, I said."

He took another step. It brought him chest to chest with her. She threw her arms around his waist to lend him support. But she discovered him to be stronger. He knotted the fingers of one hand in her hair, formed a fist, and jerked her hard against his front.

"What's your game?" he growled.

"I didn't play games."

"The hell you don't. You've been playing one with me. I want to know why. Do you have a warped sense of humor? Is that how you get your jollies? Or is it give-the-gimp-a-thrill week?" he pulled her hair tight enough to bring tears to her eyes. "Why have you done everything in your female power to keep me hard."

**OOOOoo**

**AN: **And that's that . . . aww . . . I feel guilty putting Cagalli through that, and Athrun! He's supposed to be a **gentle**man, right? Wrong, you should know that when you started reading this fict. XDD . . . anyway, I'll be posting the next chapter ASAP(A Soon As I Please) and that's gonna take long. But, if you Read **and Review**, especially lots and lots of review. I'll be happy to post it before the end of this week. ^-^ . . . I think. **R&R!**


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** I don't own GS/D . . . =_= '

**AN:** Time flew so fast. If you're asking what the Heck took me so long, One word: School

**Athrun's Fall**

**OOOOoo**

Chapter Thirteen

**OOOOoo**

Smiling seductively, Cagalli bumped her middle against his. She watched his eyes grow smoky. She came up on tiptoe and kissed his mouth. Against his lips she whispered. "I want you hard."

With a hungry sound his mouth came down on hers. He ground a savage kiss on her lips. "You knew what you were doing to me, didn't you?"

"Yes," she said defiantly.

"You tortured me intentionally."

"Not tortured, enticed."

"Why?"

"Because I want you, Athrun."

He kissed her again with a release of pent-up violence, anger, and passion. His free hand raked open her kimono. He touched her breast, fanned his fingertips over her nipple, then slid his hand down the tapering shape of her body and encircled her waist with his arm. His hand splayed wide over her derriere and pulled her higher against him. When she responded with a tilt of her hips, he quickly released her.

But he was far from finished. Using his arms, he walked himself backward and dropped into his wheelchair. In a matter of moments he was in bed, lying on his back, and drawing her down on top of him.

"Give me your best, baby," he growled.

She did. They kissed endlessly, with honest, soul-bearing lust. When they finally pulled apart, he shoved the kimono off her shoulder. She shrugged out of it and stood on her knees before him, proud and unashamed. She reached for the waistband of his shorts.

In that instant she saw the first flicker of doubt appear in his eyes. He caught her hand. "Cagalli, wait, I—"

She slapped his hand away and aimed her index finger at the center of his chest. "Don't you dare freeze up on me again, Athrun Zala. I let you get by with it last night, but damned if I will again."

"I—"

"Shut up and listen to me." Aggravated, she ran a hand through her hair to get it off her face. "You're scared that you won't be able to see this through. But you'll never know until you try." She drew a long, unsteady breath that made her breasts quiver with emotion.

"And you can lay your worries to rest that I'll taunt you if you're slow or awkward or even a total failure. I won't know the difference. I won't know if your performance is good, bad, or indifferent because . . . because you'll be my first lover."

He stared at her blankly. Seconds later, when he began to laugh, it was a nasty sound. "You laying little conniver. You've got more gall than anybody I ever met. You'll do anything, say anything, to get your patient to respond to your idea of therapy. Well, I don't want to hear your lies. And I damn sure don't want your pity."

Cagalli propped her fists on her hips. "Look, Athrun, there's only one way you'll ever find out if I'm lying or not."

She efficiently removed his shorts and straddled his lap. Bridging his chest with hers. "?I dare you to chance it." She kissed him in earnest, running her tongue across his teeth. "Dare you, Zala. Double dare you." lowering her head, she nuzzled his chest, then touched his nipple with her parted lips. He hissed a swear words and caught double handfuls of her hair. But he didn't pull her head away, especially not when she flicked her tongue over his nipple. "Dare you."

She had barely breathed the words before he bracketed her hips between his hands and pulled her down to his rigid endowment. He wasn't gentle.

Resistance.

A little gasp of pain.

He froze.

"Ah, God, Cagalli I'm sorry," his expression registered two emotions at once—regret and bewilderment. "I didn't mean to . . . I don't understand how . . . This is . . . You really are—Why didn't you tell me?"

"I did." She looked into his face. "It's the truth. You're my first. And you can believe this too. If you stop now, I'll kill you."

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips, but his touch was compassionate and tender when he reached up and stroked her cheek. "You're sure?"

"Yes." She faltered. "But I don't think I can look you in the face while we're doing it. I mean it's so . . . And I—"

"Cagalli?"

"What?"

"Shut up."

He drew her down for a long kiss. His tongue made repeated forays into her mouth while his hands caressed her breast, her back, her legs. She responded to every subtle suggestion he whispered, until, without any further pain and a great deal of sensations and joy, he was fully nestled inside her body.

He continued to coach her. A soft touch, a guiding hand, a whispered endearment. Loveplay. Erotic and exciting. Until itbecame uncertain exactly who was coaching whom.

The foundations of their worlds began to quake, then break apart. They clung to each other. He cried her name. She chanted his.

Replete, totally drained of energy, she collapse on top of him. Her limbs were so weak she couldn't move them. Her skin was damp with perspiration. His hands continued to idly strum her back and bottom, but all she could do in reaction was smile complacently against his shoulder. It took a long time for her to regain enough strength to raise her head.

Athrun was grinning.

She grinned, too, and said, "Well for started, that wasn't bad."

.

.

.

**OOOOoo**

". . . all I knew was that we were slipping and there wasn't anything I could do to stop it. I reached for a handhold, anything, but grabbed nothing but air. I kept saying to myself that should _do_ something. 'Stop this. Prevent this from happening.' I was powerless."

"And you hated that."

"Yes."

Athrun sighed as he mindlessly sifted his fingers through Cagalli's hair. "I remember hearing Nicol scream. Or maybe it was my own screams, because I was told later that he died instantly."

"Were you in pain?" talking about his accident was therapeutic. As difficult as it was for him, Cagalli had encouraged him to verbally air his feelings about it.

"I don't think so. I don't remember having any pain then. Maybe I was in shock."

"Probably."

"I drifted in and out of consciousness. I couldn't see _him_, but I remember calling his name and getting no answer. I think I cried."

She held him tight for several moments. He cleared his throat before speaking again. "The next memory I have is of the helicopter carrying me to the hospital. The racket was terrible. I sensed the urgency in the people around me. When I fully regained consciousness, I was told that I'd had surgery to repair the broken bones in my back."

"I'm very sorry," she told him as she laid a loving kiss on his chest. "It must have been a terrifying experience."

"I don't remember being scared so much as I was angry. It was happening to _me_, and I couldn't quite believe that. I had so much I still wanted to do with my life." He shook his head in befuddlement. "I know that was a crazy thing to be thinking at the time, but that's what was going through my mind."

"You felt, 'How unfair,' right?"

He laid his hand heavily on her head. "Yeah. That's it in a nutshell. Tragedies were supposed to happen to other people. Not to Athrun Zala. I heard hard luck stories on the news, but I went on with my life untouched and unscathed. Doesn't make me sound like a very nice fellow, does it?"

She stacked her fists on his breastbone and propped her chin on top of them. Gazing up at him, she said, "It makes you normal. That's what everybody in your predicament feels like. The 'why me' syndrome. And it's justified. _Why_ you?"

His expression was reflective. "I don't know. Was God favoring me or punishing me? I thought about that a lot when I first regained consciousness. Why was I the one who survived?"

"Don' feel guilty for surviving. Aha, you already have," she said, reading his rueful expression correctly. "Sometimes the survivors have the hardest time of it."

"I thought about that too. Especially before I was brought here. I hated lying there in the hospital in Rome, helpless, in pain, unable to move, afraid."

"What were you most afraid of?"

He thought for a moment before answering. "I was afraid of never being Athrun Zala again. I felt like I'd been robbed not only of the ability to move, but of my whole identity."

"That's symptomatic of your condition too." She kissed him lightly on the lips. "What is it? You have an odd smile on your face."

"I know this sounds stupid, but I was embarrassed too. The first time they put me on that . . ." he made a descriptive motion with his hands.

"The tilt table."

"Yeah. I threw up all over myself. Imagine, Athrun Zala, CEO of the worldwide Zala Hotel chain, disgracing himself like that."

She inched upward and kissed him again, more soundly this time. "You were the only one there who was unsympathetic with your condition."

"I know. I gave everyone a hard time."

"No foolin'."

He laughed with a chagrin, but became serious again. "One of my character flaws is that I have no tolerance for personal failings."

"You have no tolerance for things beyond your control."

He looked down his nose at her. "I think you fall into that category. You're way beyond my control."

She giggled. "That's what you don't like about me."

"I like you." he spoke with a soft earnestness that immediately captured her attention.

"You do? Since when?"

"Since . . . I don't know."

"Bet I know. You started liking me when I stripped off your shorts and jumped on your bones."

"No. I mean, yes, I like that. A lot," he said with a lecherous twinkle in his eyes. "But it's just occurred to me a second ago that I like _you_, the person, too."

"Why?"

"I guess because you've patiently listened while I've talked about the accident."

"I'm glad you shared it with me. You've needed to talk it out with someone. They told me that you refused counseling in the hospital."

He shrugged. "I felt like a dope."

"You're too tough to ask for help, right?" she asked it teasingly enough to make him smile.

"Thanks for listening and for not making judgments, Cagalli."

"You're welcome."

He reached up and curled a wisp of her hair around his fingers. "We've gotten into some heavy subject matter here, but I find it hard to wax philosophic when a sexy broad is sprawled across my belly."

"Do you know?"

"Hmm." He regarded her with open curiosity and interest. "_But_, now that I've revealed all my secrets to you, let's turn the tables. Tell me why and how."

Assuming a casual air, she lightly plucked his earlobe. As earlobes went, it was nice but didn't warrant the single-minded attention she gave to it. "Why and how what?"

"Why you're still a virgin—"

"How soon you forget."

He frowned at her. "Why you're still a virgin and how that's even possible."

"Technically, it's possible because I've never had a consummated love affair."

"That answers the second half of the question. What about the first half? To refresh your memory, it's the part about why?"

"I've never wanted to before."

"Cagalli." He sounded like a parent scolding a child who was obviously stretching the truth. "I want the truth."

"That's the truth. Knowing me as well as you do, do you think I'd preserve my virginity for any other reason?"

He still seemed puzzled. "It just doesn't jive with your personality. You'll do or say anything without a single qualm. I find it hard to believe you have such a liberated and relaxed attitude towards sex but have never participated."

"I go to football games and cheer on the players, but I've never played myself."

"That's hardly a correlation."

She sighed with exasperation. "What do you suggest, that I brand a bid red V on my forehead?"

He linked his hands at the small of her back and held her tightly. Nuzzling her neck, he said, "It's too late now."

"That's right. So why are you making such a big deal out of it?"

"I was surprise. No, _shocked _is a better word. And you still haven't given me a straight answer."

"I never wanted to make love before. It's as simple as that."

He was already shaking his head. "No, it goes deeper." He tried to delve into her eyes and find the truth, but she wouldn't hold eye contact long enough. "Does this have anything to do with that conversation we had about your feelings of inadequacy?"

"Of course not!"

"Bingo!"

She glared at him. "Okay, maybe it does, what of it?"

"You're a beautiful, funny, sensual, strong, sexy woman, that's what of it. Why have you deprived yourself of the most fulfilling experience the human being can enjoy?"

"Because if there was a way to mess up the most fulfilling experience the human being can enjoy, I would have found it."

Athrun softened his tone. "Care to expound?"

"No, but I will since I get the impression you're going to persist until I do."

"Right."

She drew a deep breath of resignation and expulsed it slowly. "I figured that I would be as clumsy and awkward about sex as I was about everything else. I don't mean in bed exactly. I mean all the trappings that go with it. I was afraid I'd get pregnant despite precautions. I'd be the one and a half percent the pills won't work on. I was afraid that I'd fall in love with the guy but he wouldn't fall in love with me, or the reverse." Her wide almond eyes appealed to him to understand. "I know it sounds ridiculous now, but I'd flubbed everything else I had ever tried."

"Except basketball and tennis. Kira told me."

"Well, I was okay skillwise, but I got kicked off the high school basketball team."

"Dare I ask why?"

"For sewing a row of sequins on the hem of my trunks. Well, those uniforms were _ugly_, Athrun," she stressed when he burst out laughing. "And men would get mad as hell when I beat them at tennis, so I quit playing. See? It followed that I'd fail at sex too."

A trace of vulnerability had crept into her voice, though she was unaware of it. "I didn't want another failure on my record. By the time I was told enough to say yea or nay to any guy who happened to ask, Kira was married to Lacus. She's the perfect little homemaker. Kira adored her. She gave birth to absolutely gorgeous, precious, precocious babies. If I had entered into a relationship with a man, it would end in some kind of dreadful tangle."

"But you dated."

"Yes, lots of men. But I always halted them before the final countdown."

"Poor suckers."

"Hey, the dates didn't come with a guarantee for goodies. It wasn't as though I made promises and then welshed. I didn't love any of them, so I didn't care if they read the signals wrong then ranted and raved, called me names, went away in a huff, and never asked me out again."

"But Cagalli, the way you act, the way you talk, you can't blame a man for feeling manipulated if you don't come through."

"I guess not," she admitted. "But there was too much at stake. Everything I was, everything that makes me Cagalli was at risk, and I just never thought it was a risk worth taking." Her gaze grew lambent. "At least, not until this afternoon. Now I know what I've been missing."

"Don't look at me like that, you little hustler. You should have gone into advertising. You sure as hell know how to package the product and launch a convincing campaign. You've turned a self-defense mechanism into an art form." His eyes moved over her, taking in the tousled hair, her lips, which were rouged by his kisses, the I'm-game-for-anything glint on her eyes. "God, you're so sexy."

"You thought I was an easy lay."

"Certainly not easy," he said, chuckling, "but definitely worth the trouble." He pressed his palm over her derriere. "With your lusty nature you were loaded and primed. No wonder you were so quick to fire yesterday."

Cagalli actually blushed. "What are you doing to me, I couldn't help it." His mouth spread into a wide grin. "Proud of yourself, are you, Zala? Well, don't get smug. As you've so ungallantly put it, I was primed. Any man could have pulled the trigger."

"But you didn't let any other man," he reminded her softly. "You let me. Why?"

Smoothing his eyebrow with the pad of her thumb, she thoughtfully considered her answer. "Maybe I knew you'd be grateful for a guinea pig and wouldn't mind my amateur performance. In fact, I knew you'd feel more self-confident with an amateur."

"You're no amateur. You're a natural. I feel sorry for all those poor slobs who tried to bed you and failed. But I'm glad they did." 

He cupped the back of her head and forced her face down to his. With their lips pressed together hard, his tongue boldly entered her mouth. He separated her thighs with caressing hands. His touch was delicate and deliberate and deadly to her senses."

"Athrun," she said on a ragged sigh, "can we do it again? Once more with greater feeling."

"Yes," he moaned. "I can do it again. Now I know, with you I can do anything."

**OOOOoo**

**AN:** Finally! I got through with it. I'll post the next chapter real soon, I promise. There will be no ASAP (As Soon As I Please). So don't forget, **R&R. **


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **I don't own GS/D . . . only the love for AsuCaga. ^^

**AN: **To the one who requested for Athrun's POV . . . well, here it is. It might be short and not actually a POV. But at least I made it possible to have a POV of Athrun here. So, **R&R.**

**Athrun's Fall**

**OOOoo**

Chapter Fourteen

**OOOoo**

His self-confidence hadn't flagged when he woke up the following morning. He tossed back the covers and for a second, intended to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and do some calisthenics as he had done every morning of his adult life until his accident.

With the return of awareness there usually came a depression too. This morning, however, he smiled and willed away that depression.

He was invincible. He could do anything. He had successfully made love to a woman. The return of sexual facility was only the beginning. He would soon be able to walk. Then to run. And it was all because of the woman lying beside him.

With a fond smile he turned his head and was disappointed to see that Cagalli was no longer there. All night they had remained coiled together on the narrow hospital bed. The pillow bore the imprint of her head, the sheets the scent of her body, but sometime in the wee hours of the morning, after he'd finally fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion, she had evidently sneaked back to her own room.

Athrun laughed to himself. If she had done that for Pete's benefit, she was wasting her time. Weeks ago Pete had dispensed some unsolicited advice, telling his boss that he should "Keep Cagarri in bed. Make rove all day. Then she not talk so much, not be so wired."

Athrun laughed again, this time out loud, thinking about all the times last night when Cagalli had opened her mouth to speak only to have it stopped by one of his kisses. Frequently he had kissed her into silence. Or near silence. She made that little catchy sound in her throat that never failed to arouse him. Just thinking about it made the blood in his loins grow thick and warm.

As for being wild, she was a tigress of a lover. When stocked, she purred. When excited, she snarled. God forbid that she ever be tamed.

Cagalli a virgin, he thought, chuckling and shaking his head in patent disbelief.

He worked his shorts up his legs. Wearing nothing more, he hoisted himself into his chair. He didn't even have to think about the movements anymore. They had gone from seemingly impossible to second nature under Cagalli's incessant instruction. Often he had wanted to banish her from the planet when she nagged him to do one more despised exercise. Now he was grateful for her dictatorship. Look at all she'd done for him.

When he entered the hall, he glanced at her door and saw that it was closed. He aimed his chair in the opposite direction, towards the elevator, and rode it down to the first floor. Pete wasn't in the kitchen nor in his apartment.

"Crazy little booger," Athrun muttered with a smile. Pete was giving them plenty of time together. Athrun wouldn't be surprised if Cagalli had arranged that too.

He made coffee and put it on a tray with two cups and two Danish, he'd have dessert. Cagalli. Naked and wanton and willing.

He was roused from his fantasy by his own groan of desire. His thoughts had turned deliciously dirty. It felt so damn good to plan a seduction that he knew he could consummate.

After a hasty trip outside to the terrace to pick a giant red hibiscus bloom that would look great in Cagalli's hair, among other places in her body, he placed the tray on his lap and returned upstairs. He didn't knock on her bedroom door, but backed his chair against it and turned the knob.

When he wheeled around, wearing the idiotic grin of the drastically smitten, he was met with a disappointment equivalent to a deathblow.

No Cagalli. No evidence of Cagalli. No evidence that Cagalli had ever existed.

The room was as spotlessly sterile as the day she had moved in. the bedspread had nary a wrinkle. There wasn't an assortment of sandals scattered helter-skelter across the carpet: no lacy lingerie dripping out of open drawers. The air bore the odor of desertion, not the scent of perfume. The lacquered dresser top wasn't filmed with dusting powder. There was no array of cosmetics and loose pieces of jewelry littering its smooth, polished surface. Athrun knew without looking that the closet would be empty too. The room was absent life, absent Cagalli.

His roar of outrage had origins in his gut. It rumbled inside his chest, gaining impetus, and echoed through the empty house like a night cry in the jungle. It was punctuated by the crash of the carafe of hot coffee striking the far wall.

**OOOoo**

**AN: **I would really love to say: "Just kidding!" and made Cagalli appear out of nowhere. But sad to say, that's just how this story goes. So in return, I'm letting you have a peek on the final chapter. Only a peek, ok? It's not a preview or anything, just a quick peek.

**OOOoo**

"_You're so tiny," Cagalli whispered with hushed reverence. "So soft."_

_She was laughing when the hospital room door swished open. Her smile instantly vanished._

_Athrun saw Cagalli, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, holding the infant against her breasts._

"_What are you doing here?"_

"_Why did you run out on me?"_

**OOOoo**

**AN:** Well, that's the end of the peek for the final chapter. Remember that was just a peek; don't judge the ending by it, so you better read the ending. Hope you're looking forward to it and don't forget to **R&R**. If you guys wont the ASAIP thing will come back again, and it will come back **double**. ^-^


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